Summer Nightingale
by haleybob
Summary: Sequel to Winter's Lark. Yes, I'm actually writing one! Lark and Erik are back with new problems and strange new people to add to the enjoyable story! With Richard, Rachel, Erik, and Lark heck, anything can happen! Including love? Yep. Hatred? Definately.
1. Chapter 1

**Annnnnnnd we're back with authoress Haleybob and my silent and sarcastic muse, Erik! Amazing, actually...to be back in the story of my first written AND completed phan fiction! Sheesh, time didn't fly too much before a sequel was requested (thank you! It was flattered!) and my brain started chugging with new ideas! Frankly, I didn't plan to but then, as Jimmy Neturon would say: "Brain blast!" I was off! If you're new to this story, um, you need to read the first one _Winter's Lark _before reading this little beauty! Sorry, but that's the way it works here! **

**Erik: You're babbling, again. I think the readers would appreciate you moving on instead of rabbling your incorherent speech. If they do not mind reading it..._I_ would like you to get a move on!! **

**Okay! Okay! Sheesh... That kind of hurt BUT I will get a move on! Here we are...(takes deep breath) Here we go!**

**DISCLAIMER: I never owned Phantom! But I DO own my own characters! (happy squee!)**

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**Part One: **

"It doesn't seem too bad." A young girl with dark blonde hair stood swaying gently in the breeze, her usually sea-green eyes closed against the world. Her companion, a tall, skeletally thin, rather ominous looking man in a plain white face mask snorted dubiously. "Oh, and you would know, hm?" She turned to him, eyes slowly opening to reveal fogged, glassy eyes. She was blind. "Oh, ha, ha, Erik." She smiled, rolling her eyes. "That's mean, poking fun at a blind girl." They stood comfortably in the front yard of a rather long cottage with its shutters peeling of their paint coats and hanging off their hinges. The rest of it was rather shabby and the yard seemed more like a safari with the long, softly browning grass and large oak tree shading the rest of the house. "Technically speaking, you are not such a girl anymore. More of a young woman, yes?" The man, Erik, observed the house with distaste as the female rolled her misty eyes again. He had thought it would be in better condition if it had been in the girl's mother's will. "I have only two words to say, Lark." He said, scowling. She glanced in the direction of his voice with curiosity.

"What is that?" Lark asked mildly though she had a pretty good, or bad, feeling about what he was going to say. Erik huffed and turned his back on the cottage. "We're leaving. Get back in the carriage." He started heading off, the smooth dirt path crunching under his feet. The girl heaved a sigh and reached out expertly and managed to seize a handful of Erik's dark cloak. "Oh, no you don't." she said warningly, pulling him back. "We are going to make this work." The man, irritated that he had been led back like some sort of bad puppy, scowled more under his mask and snorted. "How do you intend to do that?" He asked, annoyed. "You obviously can't work…" Here Lark winced, it was true. "And I am in no mood to start decorating a house by myself." He finished. With another glance at the yard he added quickly. "Or ever." Lark crossed her arms and looked helplessly around, once Erik said he wasn't going to do something it was an immense pain to persuade him otherwise. "Couldn't we hire people to work?" she asked, biting her lip. "Let's just go in, see how it looks!" Erik glanced at her through his mask's eyeholes. "…Well, you'll see how it is." She amended.

Erik snorted again and unwillingly prodded Lark in the right direction, keeping an eye on her so she wouldn't trip as they moseyed around the yard to the front door. With a face, Erik approached the peeling door, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder to prevent her from running into him or the door itself. "Fine," he groaned, "we go in, have a look around, then leave, alright?" Lark scowled, an interesting look on such a young innocent face. "No, we see how badly we need workers. _Then_ we can leave." Erik wished she could see him roll his eyes at her but his hand turned the old, rather stylish doorknob. He noticed, as the door creaked open, that the door knocker was a roaring dragon with a rose clutched in its fangs. Unusual, he thought, but not unwanted. Lark took in a breath and was startled by the familiar scent. "Oh!" She wavered on the doorstep and would have fallen if Erik did not steady her. "What is it?" He asked, forgetting to look inside the house as he peered at her concerned. She shook her head and gasped out. "It…and this may sound odd, but it…it's just like Mama and mine old house! The scent!"

"Ah." Erik never understood why she was so taken by a simple scent but then…she used all other senses to help her in her blindness. Curious he helped Lark into the house and took a long look around and was surprised. "Not bad!" he slipped out accidentally. The house inside was much better taken care of than the outside had been. Smooth, dark green patterned wallpaper made out the entry hall which led to an equally green sitting room. Furniture was covered in clean white sheets, looking like ghosts in a dark forest. Smaller sheets also covered both large and small pictures that hung, besides the sheets on them, rather becomingly on the walls. A large fireplace was placed to the far left with a covered something on its mahogany ledge. More doors led to supposedly other rooms and an open doorway to the right led to a lighter, blue kitchen with dark cabinets that matched the table inside with three or four chairs grouped around it.

"The air isn't dusty…is it clean, Erik?" Lark chirped, a warm feeling filling her as she reached for his hand. He let her take it and scowled around at the comfortable house. "Yes. It is fine on the inside…Looks like a wreck from the outside of course." Her face lit up, his sarcasm and inflexibility something she was used to. "Does that mean…?" she said excitedly, leaning forward anxious to put the house into her 'memory'. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, grinding his teeth. "Yes. Yes, we're…staying." Lark let out an ecstatic cry and let go of his hand and felt her way carefully until she bumped into the nearest bookshelf. Erik winced but watched with amusement as the girl carefully felt it and took steps back and forth, measuring the distance and then setting off to fall over the sofa once she got the bookshelf in her mind. He walked over to her, smirking to himself as she tried to disentangle herself from the white sheet. "So this is how it goes?" He asked casually, leaning against the back of the divan. "You bump into everything then never do it again?"

Lark managed to free herself and plopped down to the ground with a bump. "Ouch…" she rubbed her head a little but nodded all the same. "This is how it's done most of the time." she admitted, getting up and sprawling in another direction. Erik sighed then with a cry, lunged to seize her around the waist as she nearly tumbled headfirst into the fireplace ledge. "Damn it, be careful!" He growled, straightening her up. Lark's eyes were as wide as teacup saucers. "Oh, oh, that was close." She gasped, pressing a hand to her fluttering heart. "What was I going to hit?" Erik glowered and grasped her hand, pressing it against the hard fireplace ledge where she had nearly impaled herself on. The color drained out of her face and she gave him a weak smile. "Good thing you're here, huh, Erik?" He sighed and ran a hand over his mask, it was rubbing again. "You are very lucky I am here." He replied, steering her to the now half covered chair. "Why don't you try another way besides bumping into things?"

She shifted to get comfortable and moaned a little. "I would have to use your help, though!" she said guiltily, "And I know you've been wanting to get back to your music." This was true as Erik had spent most of the trip handing Lark the reins to scribble a few more note heads on his work before snatching them back before they could crash. He winced at the memory of a particularly close miss of an old man with his wife. Erik hadn't known that people that age could curse so much! Still, he spared a glance at Lark. Her face was creased with worry but her eyes were so blank and empty. "No, I would help." He said. Her face started to brighten again. "But only when the Bair's come." He finished. If there was something wrong, there would be more people to help. Plus, mademoiselle Rachel would love to help out Lark and save him some trouble. Lark seemed to recognize this and she laughed. "Alright, fair enough." She said, giggling. Erik was about to smile when the doorknocker gave out a sharp rap, rap, rap. Someone was at the door.

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**Well hope the beginning is to your alls taste! I was quite happy with it but...whadda think???**


	2. Chapter 2

**Uwaah! First chapter and already I have this being favorited AND got two new reviews!! I'm SO sorry I haven;t updated! Truely, I had another one ready to update until my dad banned me from week-day computer use. Technically I'm not supposed to be on...BUT I couldn't stand letting you guys hang! So, I'm sorry, that's what's happening and I hope you enjoy the second chapter!!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Phantom. (tear)**

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**Part Two:**

"They can't be here this early." Erik frowned, getting up. "Surely Richard would have enough restraint to wait a day or so." Lark shrugged bemused and stayed put on the couch though she longed to go with Erik to the door. He was halfway to answering the door when she was hit by a terrible thought. "Wait! Erik!" She cried, jumping up. Thankfully his skeletal hand paused on the doorknob. "What is it?" he asked, exasperated. Lark didn't answer but crossed the room as well as she could and came to the door beside him. Under her breath, looking worried she said: "What if it isn't anyone we know? They could see your mask…" Realization hit them both like a wave and Erik sighed before crossed his arms and heading into another room. "You get it then, mademoiselle." He said. Lark nodded sadly and wished very fervently that she would be able to see this person. With a deep inhale of the familiar air of the house, she turned the doorknob and opened the door.

A voice, a young voice perhaps around her age, spoke to her. "Oh! Hello, I didn't realize that the owners would be just….well I mean, uh, do you live here?" Lark blinked. The voice, sounding very embarrassed, continued rather uncomfortably. "Well I mean, of course you live here. I was just surprised that there were people here and…um, welcome?" She sensed some movement from the voice but she held still, not knowing what to do. It sounded a little bit Scottish, or was that Irish? As she was musing she then recognized the voice being a boy's, calm and older sounding, when it continued. "Oh, well I guess you are not used to shaking hands…I'm sorry, I never introduced myself." Lark nodded, trying to put on a face that would be acceptable. Oh! For some sight! "Um, yes, well, I'm Thomas. Thomas Peter!" Lark smiled, knowing that would look correct. "It's nice to meet you, Thomas." She said cheerfully, taking a step out of the door. This was a mistake, as she didn't know how close he was. "Ouch…!" Their heads banged together as Lark took one step too close.

"What the..?" the boy sputtered, and a shuffling could be heard. Lark's eyes filled with tears as she rubbed her own head as they had smacked into each other pretty hard. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" she wailed, feeling rather stupid and clumsy. "I didn't…well, I couldn't see you and…!" She felt a warm, rough hand envelope hers. It must have been Thomas's. He sounded confused and wary when he next spoke. "What do you mean you can't…?" Lark bit her lip then said softly. "I'm…I'm blind." His hand left hers and she felt rather sad, it had felt good to have something to hold onto. He sounded embarrassed again. "Oh! I had thought…well your eyes are kind of foggy, but still I should have…" he coughed. "Well, I understand now. Um, that's fine. I forgive you." Thomas then laughed, it was a rather rough, but very jolly. Lark smiled more easily, pleased that he took her problem so lightly. Yes, he had brushed it away like it wasn't a big deal to him…it _wasn't_ a big deal to him!

"We do live here, though." She said once he had stopped laughing. She was feeling much more the better. "It was in my…my mother's will that I own it. Where do you live?" There was more shuffling and she again felt his calloused hand take hers but this time he took hold of her wrist and pointed off into a direction. "Over there," he said as she giggled, "my house isn't that big but then, that wouldn't matter huh?" It seemed to be that he was smiling at her so Lark smiled encouragingly back. "Oh no," Thomas said suddenly, a frown creeping into his voice. The girl turned towards his voice, careful not to hit anything. "What is it?" she asked, hoping Erik wasn't being spotted. Thomas heaved an annoyed sigh and for a moment Lark feared he was irritated at her until he muttered. "My Da….none too happy, either." She frowned a little. "That's not good…?" A silence, then Thomas laughed shortly. "Uh huh, not good at all. I got to go."

"Oh." Lark said mournfully, it had been nice to talk to this boy. Thomas seemed to sense this. "I'll try to see you again," he said hastily, "that is, if you want." Her face and heart lit up. "Oh! Yes, yes, I would love that!" He sighed with relief and said a quick goodbye before she heard him rushing off into the grass. By now, Lark could hear Thomas' 'Da' shouting his name. The man sounded old and strong and strict; he had a stronger accent than Thomas had. Wishing she could see them both, she turned around and felt for the door handle. Her hand met clothing instead of hard wood and she let out a little gasp of surprise. "An interesting boy," Erik's familiar voice mused from above her head, sounding at ease. "Erik!" Laughed Lark, "You surprised me! What are you doing out here…? They didn't see you, did they?" She looked worried again.

Erik frowned, displeased to see her worry more, but placed a hand on her head. "No, no one saw me, thank you. I was watching through a window." Lark looked in his general direction curiously. He grinned. "There are some rather exquisite curtains in your room. I've already decided where everything can fit comfortably." He added smugly. She smiled up at him and chuckled to herself. "Of course. Have you found a room for your organ?" Erik felt a twinge of pride as he led Lark back in the house and down a hall. "Yes I did, and a very nice room, too. With a key to lock you out." He snickered as she protested loudly, outraged but laughing all the same. "Here we are," he said, opening up a small door. It was near the back of the cottage and the room was just big enough to hold a good sized organ, a desk, and a small bookshelf that could be stuffed with papers for music. Letting Lark go Erik watched her feel the room top to bottom gasping with pleasure when she found things just right. "It's perfect!" she beamed at him.

"Would you like to go to your room, Lark?" he asked kindly, he was in a good mood. Her face got positively brighter. "Ooo, yes!" She gushed. He smirked and prodded her out of the organ's to-be chamber.

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**I hope to update as soon as I can!! Thanks for sticking with me!!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Greetings again! I'm so sorry the chapters are a little on the blegh side, but it is necessary and I hope you all won't kill me! It DOES get better, I swear! I tend to drag things a little long...hey it's a fault alright!? Okay, okay, so here's an update and I'm sorry about how long it takes. T-T Truely, I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for sticking with me and reading!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Phantom, okay!?**

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**Part Three:**

Lark's room was softer than the other rooms' dark, hard colors. With a beautiful pale blue, flower patterned wallpaper with matching white lace curtains; Erik had immediately picked this room to be hers. It was comfortable of size and would contain enough room for her to make her way around without worrying about little things. One white covered armchair sat next to a darker blue desk and chair that had painted green vines entangling down the legs and surface. There was an old bed frame, but it sagged and Erik was personally very glad that he could load up her old bed into the carriage than try to make do the rickety iron one that stood before them. Rust had begun to form on its legs already. The large window, though, was Lark's favorite; she could feel the sunshine and the light pouring in. The large tree outside in the front yard also provided a little shade and so the sunshine became tinged with a soft green which complimented the room very nicely. "It already feels right!" She sighed happily, walking around feeling.

"I thought you might have liked it." Erik said, leaning against the door frame, watching her give a twirl of delight in the center of the room, the sun her spotlight. Lark turned to him, smiling broadly, her usually foggy eyes shining. "This is going to be a good change, Erik." She said seriously, pushing her hair behind her ear. "I can feel it." He tilted his head to the side with falsetto awe. "Glad we can have your professional insight, mademoiselle." He smirked as she rolled her eyes and closed them again. "Still…can't you feel it?" she whispered, holding herself tight. Erik was silent then… "Maybe I do."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The evening night was very pleasant, too pleasant even to stay inside or work. Especially work for Erik. "We can unload tomorrow," he said patiently as Lark tapped her foot looking meaningfully in his common direction. "I am not going to be able to get every piece of furnishing in this place all myself you know!" She sighed and gave him a rueful smile. "I suppose not…where are we going, again?" Erik came behind her and gave her a gentle poke in the correct area. "Outside, mademoiselle. Feel the air?" He opened the back door and led them both into the warm, sweet surroundings. She remained silent but her useless eyes opened in delight as the warmth caressed her. "Yes. It feels lovely." She said admiringly, wishing to all who would hear that she could see. Erik seemed to feel the same way but with a sudden curse he excused himself from the yard saying he left 'important business in the carriage that should not be left out.' No doubt he meant his music, Lark thought wryly, a grin twisting her lips. She rubbed her arms thoughtfully and dared not to stroll without someone watching her. How was she to know something wasn't in the yard that could trip her?

A rustle of bushes beside her made Lark jump, her heart skipping a beat. That is, until a familiar voice was heard…. "Psst! Hey, you!" Thomas hissed, more leaves rustling around him. Lark turned slowly in the direction, joy filling her. "Is that you, Thomas?" she asked equally soft although she had no clue why. She heard a grin in his voice. "Yep, you can't get rid of me that easily!" The girl's lips twisted again into a large smile, the one that was so identical to Richard's. A twang hit her heart. She missed the two siblings very dearly even after two days of their absence. The boy seemed to be disentangling himself from the brush and with a loud crunch that left them both wincing, she felt his presence very near to her own. Breathless, his rough voice came through. "I had to sneak away while chopping wood to see you." Her? Lark smile widened. "Why?" He snorted, sounding almost like Erik in the way. She hoped he wouldn't show up now…and hoped he was taking his time to get whatever from the carriage he needed.

"You're name, silly!" Thomas said, lightly tapping her head. "You never introduced yourself!" Her mouth dropped open and he let out a small roar of laughter. "You look hilarious like that," he explained as she stared in his direction. She crossed her arms. "If you're just going to gawk at me, there isn't any reason to know my name!" Lark's face was burning and she felt like a small girl again. Thomas was instant to apologize, but strangely it wasn't to her. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, sounding embarrassed and alarmed. Lark heard him take several steps back. "Is this your daughter, messier?" Lark's ears were on immediate alert. Who…? It was Erik's voice, calm and ominously polite. Obviously it had taken him very little time to fetch his work. "Yes, my good sir, yes she is." Erik never sounded more threatening when he was polite. She felt his bony, skeletal hand rest on her shoulder and give her a light squeeze. "And may I know why you are here? Also who you are?" he said coolly.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Thomas felt very flustered and disconcerted. He had only wanted to talk to the young, rather devilishly pretty girl and to find out her name when this…man came in silently as a shadow. Bathed in his seemingly personal darkness, the white face-mask had never looked more threatening on the head of this tall, thin figure. With midnight black hair, spiked with a few white strands pulled back from the mask with a short black ribbon, it matched perfectly with his equally dark suit. A cloak covered his thin but broad shoulders. This could have been an emperor or a king standing forbiddingly before him the way he held himself. Thomas felt sweat trickle down his spine. This was not a man to be messed with or disappointed. "Your name, boy." The man said, the eyes behind the mask flashing. Thomas glanced once at the girl the man had rested his hand on. Her eyes, always blank, looked surprised but not frightened. "Ah, right you are, messier." He ran a hand nervously through his thick hair, grimacing. "Ah, um, I'm Peter. Thomas Peter."

"Indeed." Amusement laced the man's cold voice. "Well what were you doing on _our_ property?" The girl, curse her for not giving out her name, suddenly frowned and turned to the man. "Erik, is it wrong for me to meet people? He was just saying hello!" Thomas shifted uncomfortably, so the man was named Erik. He had also noticed he spoke of their property, not as if he alone owned it. Was this what the girl meant awhile back when she talked of her mother giving the house to her? The man, Erik, seemed exasperated at the girl. "Of course not!" he said rolling his eyes in a very unusual characteristic. "I will not forbid you to say hello but as you know, he has already come over." Thomas looked back and forth at them with shock as they bickered, unaware that he even existed anymore. Swallowing, he started to shuffle away. "I'll just…be going, then." He said softly, exiting out of the bushes he had entered. He turned back and was both annoyed and jovial that they didn't see them leave but continued to bicker until that Erik man led the girl gently back to the house. "Bye, then." Thomas said quietly. "I _am_ going to find out your name."

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**Bum bum BuUUUUUM! Hahaa! Don't worry, Thomas is a good boy, he's not naughty. Hope you enjoyed and I'm currently writing the next chapter eating a PB&J! **

**Erik: ...Please someone shoot me. Or her.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Greetings everyone! Sorry it takes so long, but dang, it's getting hard to find time to write! Then I have to be able to write SOMETHING which is hard if I don't know what's going to happen! Hopefully this chapter will make things more interesting...Well, till next chapter! Enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I. Don't. Own. Phantom. Why do you make me repeat this?? Don't you GET it??**

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**Part Four:**

"Erik, how am I supposed to eat?" Lark said. Erik glanced up at her. "What?" They were both seated at the kitchen table. It was evening and her stomach had growled extra loudly causing her to remember dinner. Erik had been reading his music sheets, tapping the table in the time completely absorbed in his work. "If you haven't noticed," Lark said, rolling her eyes, "I'm blind and that makes it difficult to eat." He made a face she couldn't see and sighed. "I haven't forgotten and I have noticed as both you and I know." He groaned, folding the papers away in his pocket. She put her head down and wrung her hands, it had been a horrifying experience for them both to realize she would never see again. Erik leaned forward, resting his masked head comfortably in his palm. "Hmm, how did you eat when you were…away?" he asked mildly, hoping this wasn't going to turn into something difficult and embarrassing. She thought only briefly, wanting to forget she was ever gone from Erik's side.

"Well, when no one was around," she confessed blushing, "I just ate with…my hands." She could feel his amused gaze on her. "Well if I can't _feel_ the food, I can't _find_ the food!" she burst out, lifting her head, eyes flashing passionately. Erik, startled, nodded to himself. That made more sense…another piece to the puzzle. "I'm sorry," he apologized weirdly, "that makes sense. What did you do when you were with people?" Lark hung her head again, ashamed. "I did not eat. Or I just had something that didn't require silverware." Erik scowled and drummed his fingers. "Hmm, well first we have to see if we have anything to eat before worrying about how to eat it, _non_?" Lark's head shot up with a cry of apprehension but she was interrupted by a knock at the door. Erik, fuming, stood up. "I am going to get rid of that door knocker personally!" he raged to himself as Lark also got up to join him curiously.

"Going to rip it right off, I will." He muttered then suddenly whipping around to steer a very startled Lark right in front of the door. "E-Erik?" she gasped, feeling very winded as he took her by surprise. His hand closed over hers and pushed it roughly against the door handle. "You have to get it, remember?" He growled and pulled away quickly. Lark was silent, pondering, and then nodded fiercely as she got a burst of realization. "I remember." The knocker's hard, loud, and rather annoying rapping came again as if the person behind the door could not wait a single moment longer. "Good." With a swirl of his cloak, Erik continued down the hallways still muttering curses under his breath. Lark half smiled and wondering unconsciously if it would be Thomas again opened the door. A rush of cloth and a large weight was thrown around her in a tight embrace. "Ooo, Lark, it feels like it has been ages!" Rachel's familiar, rather breathless voice cooed happily. The girl could only blink, confused for merely a moment before bursting into laughter and hugging her friend back. "I would say 'I'm glad to see you, too'," she laughed, "but with how I am I will have to stick with: It has been ages to me as well!"

Rachel's chiming laughter filled the hallway and Lark felt her stroke back her hair. "Ah, and you grow more and more beautiful by the minute." Rachel sighed in a doting motherly fashion. "How the men will crowd around." Lark blushed but the woman just laughed again and seemed to have turned around. "Right, Richard?" The girl wished harder than ever that she could see as she heard her most favorite friend and companion she had had in all her life came walking through the door, his footsteps rather heavier than usual. But then, she hadn't been with the siblings in quite awhile to remember what they sounded like when walking around. "Hello, Rich!" she grinned in his direction, using their nickname for him. His deep tones were laced with amusement and pleasure at having being there. "Hullo, Larky," he returned the greeting warmly. "Where's Monsieur Erik?" Rachel tutted to herself as she brushed Lark down. "He is probably out sulking somewhere if I know him well enough, right, dear?" Lark could hear her wicked grin and she mimicked it. "Oh," she replied, shrugging. "I don't know. Maybe?"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Richard observed Lark with a sad smile. His sister had spoken the truth when she had said she was growing more beautiful by the day. The young girl's, no, she wasn't a girl anymore. The young _woman's_ hair had grown longer and was nearly down to her shoulders. Dark blonde, it accented her hazy green eyes well. It looked, though, that she would be in needing help getting along with everyday things with her blindness for her dress was rumpled and her hair combed rather untidily and placed even more messily up in a black ribbon. He glanced at his sister who was fussing happily over Lark, showering her with praise and laughter. "…out sulking somewhere if I know him well enough, right, dear?" Rachel continued grinning wickedly. Richard could barely suppress rolling his eyes before Erik suddenly appeared over her shoulder looking as ominous as ever. "If I do recall," Erik purred, "I do not sulk such as a petty little child would."

He and Lark laughed as his sister let out a startled squeak and whirled around to face Erik, his golden eyes flashing amusedly under his white mask. "That isn't funny, Erik!" she gasped, holding a hand to her heart. "You nearly scared me out of my skin!" He let out a low chuckle and walked, no, glided over to Lark and Richard's side. "I was not expecting you this early, Monsieur Bair." He said politely. "But I will not say I am displeased." He glanced down at Lark. "Nor she, either." She grinned and bobbed her head in agreement. Richard ruffled Lark's hair fondly while smiling at Erik. "I would imagine you need my help unloading the heavier objects." Rachel looked back and forth from Richard to Erik then at Lark who waited patiently in between them. Faintly, she heard the child's stomach growl. "Have you any dinner, sweetie?" the woman asked, interrupting both men who glanced at each other, eyebrows rose.

Lark blushed at the attention. "No," she said shyly, "we were going to do something but then you both arrived…" Rachel looked satisfied. "Then I guess you men wouldn't mind if we women worked something up in the kitchen." Instead she glanced at Erik. "You wouldn't mind…?" He shrugged and waved his hand in a silent agreement. With a grin, Rachel took hold of Lark's hand gently and led her to the kitchen. Richard stared after them. "She really has grown," he said softly. Erik eyed him curiously before getting back on the subject of unloading the beds first…then the organ.

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**He loves that organ...I'd love it too. XD **

**Erik: ...Keep away from it.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Ugh, I always feel so guilty if I don't update on a weekend! For that reason, and usually that goes for the past chapters, is why they're kinda short. I keep them up to 1000 words, minimum! Again, sorry I can't update fast and sorry they're cut a little short. Hope you enjoy them anyways!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Phantom, only my characters.**

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**Part Five:**

"Empty! How can everything be empty?" Rachel clattered around the now bright kitchen. The candles burned brightly on the table top as well as the white countertops, casting playful shadows on the walls and Lark's blank face. "We haven't…er…gotten around to getting groceries." She explained, listening with interest as a banging came from the cupboards, Rachel's light footsteps making the wooden flooring squeak. "So I've come to realize," Rachel said dryly, seating herself across from the girl. "What were you two to do for supper?" Lark shrugged and listened to Erik and Richard's murmur of conversation drift closer. She could also hear Rachel tap her foot irritably as she walked over to the entrance, to which she seemed not to be able to hear the men come in around the corner. A secret smile spread on Lark's face as she wondered what would happen if she didn't warn the lady. She found out very quickly by a startled cry and a crash.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Men," Rachel muttered furiously, "you'd think he'd remember to feed her once in a whi-.." Suddenly as she whisked around the corner of the kitchen, she made contact, hard, with a broad skeletal chest. Winded, she stumbled back seizing something silken and connected to something very solid, crashing both her and a very startled Erik to the ground. Rachel's eyes squeezed shut as Richard let out a surprised cry. Erik's amazingly light weight was pinning her to the carpet and his also winded voice came through to ears. "Mademoiselle, I apologize." He said hastily, sounding very uncomfortable. Her eyes opened and her cheeks flared with heat as she stared up into the strained gold eyes behind the white mask. Avoiding the burning eyes, she glanced at her hands still tightly clutched around Erik's tie, holding him down. "Oh! I'm so sorry, Erik!" She stammered, releasing him. She hoped to goodness that no one could hear her heart beating like a drum.

Fortunately, Erik was all to intent about removing himself from the floor than Rachel's sputtering pulse. Quick as lightning, he was to his feet so quickly that Rachel felt that it had been only she who had fallen. Richard, trying not to laugh, helped his flustered sister while Erik quickly swept into the kitchen and tugged a lock of Lark's hair causing her to giggle behind her hands. She knew what happened by only listening. He bopped her head lightly with a closed fist. "It was not funny," Erik grumbled, "and I think Mademoiselle Rachel would agree with me." He looked meaningfully in the woman's direction. She turned away, cheeks still aflame but nodded her assent. Richard sat beside Lark and laughed, smiling broadly. "Oh, do not worry, Lark." He chuckled as she turned in his direction, worried that she may have offended someone. "It was plenty hilarious. Laugh with me!" With distinct childish character that had lasted many, many years between the two, both Lark and Richard threw back their heads and laughed like two small children sharing a secret.

Rachel, still rather flustered, managed a weak smile though Erik scowled and stomped off to his room, to brood and sulk to himself. Lark shook her head, still grinning. "Oh, don't worry about him, Rachel; he gets really grumpy when he's laughed at." The woman jumped, she hadn't realized that her worried and disconcerted era was palpable. "Oh, ah, I see." She said, fanning her face while her brother chuckled to himself, leering at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You're never going to let this go, are you?" Rachel sighed. He shook his head slowly, still grinning. With an angry huff, she sat down at the table and glanced outside, glowering. Lark, who had been giggling to herself turned to Richard and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I didn't get a proper hug," she explained, beaming as he started slightly. "I apologize," he said, his freer arm hugging her tight while his captured one traced her own wrapped around his top. "We should have properly done this, yes?" Lark laughed and nodded, releasing him to sit back down.

"What-?" Rachel started from her staring to look hard at the window, causing her brother and Lark to jump with surprise. "Who's that boy?" She got up to peer out the window while the child squirmed uncomfortably on her chair, a blush rising to her cheekbones. Richard also got up to look over his sibling's shoulder. "Was he peeking?" he asked suspiciously. Lark's face burned as Rachel described their viewer's actions. "Well, not really." Rachel admitted, "His head just popped up, looked in once and saw me looking back; then he high-tailed it. Seemed to be a stable boy or something..." Wishing she too could go and sulk with Erik, Lark tried to remain composed though she knew for a fact that the boy was actually her strange new friend, Thomas. She would have to warn him if she got the chance to see him again. Heavy steps approached her behind and Richard's gentle hands rested on her shoulders. "Do you know any boys, Lark?" he asked, sounding almost angry.

"No," she lied at once but for the entire world she didn't know why she would lie to her best friend. "I haven't met anyone yet." Lark hadn't realized Richard's fingers were tensed until they relaxed and fell from her shoulders. Irritation still laced his voice. "Stay away from peeping toms, Lark." he said seriously, "They're nothing but heart breakers." Her face seemed to radiate heat and she pressed her cool fingers to her cheeks. Rachel snorted and shoved her brother away from the girl. "Oh, hush." She said crossly, "Lark's a smart girl; you do not need to go off scolding her! She hasn't done anything!" Richard snapped something in return but it was low and unintended for Lark's ears. Rachel, however, heard and laughed mockingly. "'_She's too naïve to understand_'? My dear brother, you insult her intelligence!" She sounded torn from being outraged and amused. Secretly, Lark agreed with her, it was rather insulting of Richard to reprove her thoughts of people. Hadn't see seen enough of the real world with Mama?

"No!" Richard gasped, livid. "No, that's not….you don't….no! I am not insulting her intelligence! She hasn't been exposed to- to young men's' tricks, that's all! She doesn't know how they can manipulate her!" Rachel scoffed, and Richard bickered until Lark stood up, her chair banging to the floor. "Lark is still in the room!" she said loudly, nearly into tears. She hated it when they bickered, especially when she herself was the topic! Rachel was the first to sooth and to try to reassure her. "Oh, Lark, sweetie I'm sorry!" she said, trying to sit her back down. "We are just worried for your well being!" Lark would not be sat down, and instead she felt her way to the kitchen door and turned to them. "If you two would like to argue about me," she said dramatically, "kindly do it out of my earshot! And for your information, I already have a completely capable guardian!" Rachel looked ashamed, but Richard reached out to her. "Lark…" he said softly. "Good night." She said sharply, and stomped off to Erik's room not even bothering to knock as she banged in, slamming the door closed with a flourish.

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**Wah hah ha! You always need some embarrassing moments in a story! ...Don't kill me! -hides under desk-**

**Erik: ...-sighs-**


	6. Chapter 6

**Wow, I'm updating twice in two days! Yay! Thank you all for reviewing! I'll try to answer your questions soon in the story! Richard's age...you know I never even said it in _Winter's Lark_, either. 0-o I'll need to fit that in...hmmm..what IS his age!?**

**DISCLAIMER: I repeat this over and over, I don't own Phantom, okay??**

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**Part Six:**

Erik hadn't been listening after he had left, but that never stopped the Bair siblings' bickering to reach his ears. All he had wanted to do was work on his music at the desk he and Richard had so conveniently taken in along with the beds. Suppressing a sigh he was not in the least surprised when Lark hammered in, nearly in tears and sat down in front of his door, sulking. "I am guessing that our wonderful guests have attacked each other about something," he remarked calmly, dipping his quill into the ink. She sighed and nodded, cupping her head between her hands. It remained there and a rather tense era filled the room even though Erik ignored it and continued working. Lark would talk when she felt like that. "I…well, it was about me." She said, as though she couldn't keep silent. Erik, thankful of his mask, smiled. Right on cue. "Do tell." He said. She shrugged helplessly. "Oh, it wasn't anything horrible, they're…they're just worried. About me…" Erik turned around in his chair and looked at her. "And…?" he pressed gently.

"..And I wish they wouldn't…not so much," Lark whispered, looking very mournful indeed. Erik nodded solemnly and turned back in his chair. "I would not worry about it, yourself, my dear." He said softly, "The Bair's may bicker, but they are not stupid. They care very much about how you feel as well as your well being." He observed his work, humming a bar before crossing out something and adding a sharp. "They will let it go after awhile." Lark smiled slightly and nodded. A few more moments of hearing the pen scratch, Erik's slow, even breathing, and the slight murmur of her friends' voices outside the door she finally got up and walked over to Erik cautiously. "How is your work…?" She asked, listening carefully as he hummed. He stopped and frowned slightly. "Not as well as I would like it," he admitted, scooting back without another glance at the penned note heads. With a rattle of a chain, Lark knew that he had taken out his pocket watch. "Ah, but you should be asleep, Lark." Erik said reprovingly. "We got your bed out first so you should be quite comfortable."

She started to protest, but Erik laid a finger over her mouth. "No," he said sternly, "if I am to be a good father, you need to get good habits. Especially rest." Lark made a face and pushed his hand away. "You know I only told Thomas that you were my father so he wouldn't ask questions!" she laughed, outraged. Erik snickered and getting up, pushed her back to the hall. "I know," he said, still chuckling to himself. Opening the room's door, Erik looked down the hallway just as Richard came by. "Ah, here's the gentleman who will escort you to bed, mademoiselle." Erik said with a wicked gleam in his eye. The younger man stopped, confused. "What…?" he asked uncertainly, looking rather wary. The masked man came forward dragging an equally bewildered girl over. "Oh, yes, is it not proper for a young lady to have an escort?" Erik said while wrapping Lark's arm gently around Richard's. "Well, I believe so," he continued as the two stared at him. "Good evening!" With a pat on Lark's head and a push down the hall, Erik glided back into his own room, closing the door tight.

"…What was that about?" asked Lark, her face wrinkled in both amusement and bafflement. Richard was silent until she jostled his arm. "Well, c'mon, Rich." She said cheerfully. "Be my escort!" He jumped slightly then coughed embarrassedly. The girl then remembered what happened just a while ago. "Oh…" An awkward moment passed until Lark broke it again. "Listen, Rich, I know you two were just worried about me…and I got upset because you two fight about me…" she said softly. "I just…don't want to cause problems. But it isn't a reason to snap so at you." Lark bit her lip, then timidly wrapped her arms around his stomach. Tension filled his body, but then he let out a long sigh and embraced her back. "I forgive you." He whispered, squeezing her tight before letting go. "Thank you." Lark smiled, then relined her arm with his. "Will you still be my escort..? I don't know the house well enough…." He groaned with sympathy, fondly sweeping her dark blonde curls from her face.

"But of course, mademoiselle." He said solemnly, and to his delight, she grinned.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Richard had helped her to the room but she had discovered she would also require help dressing for bed. Richard sputtered and coughed, sounding thoroughly embarrassed when she mentioned this to him and had hurriedly called his sister. Rachel, who laughed at her brother's awkwardness, eagerly helped to aid Lark, in hope she and her could make amends. "We both lost our tops, dear," she said, pulling the girl's dress over Lark's arms once Richard had whisked out of sight. "It was cruel of us to have you listen to us argue." The girl gave a muffled reply as Rachel pulled her sleeping gown over her small head. "What was that, dear?" The woman asked, perplexed but laughing. Lark poked her head out, her blank face flushed with the effort, her hair a fly-away mess. "Um, I was going to say I was used to it, but that would be rude." She blushed while Rachel chuckled. "I mean," She continued hurriedly, "I know you two care a lot about me, and I thank you! But I'm sorry for snapping at you as well…." Rachel had only smiled and pulled her into another hug before tucking her in like a small little girl.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The room was dark, but not as dark as it was to Lark. She snuggled deeper under the covers, trying to ignore the panic that always seemed to build before she went to sleep. No one ever seemed to know how frightening it was to be continuously in the dark. At least everyone who could see got the sun after the hours of night, Lark got them day in and day out. Still, she smiled to herself as she remembered the events that had happened. Meeting Thomas, being with Erik, seeing Richard and Rachel again, it had all been so enjoyable. Lark's smile faded. It would have been more, had she been able to see. Sudden grief constricted her heart and a few tears trickled down her soft cheeks. She missed seeing the light, the land, and the people. She missed her sight dreadfully, and she would never regain it again. Erik…she'd never see his face, or mask, again. She would never again see new people, like Thomas Peter. Everyone she had ever met…their past image would be the only one that would be etched into her mind forever.

She would never see them age. Lark would hear them, and their voices….but….would it be the same? Remaining cheerful to everyone else was all she could do to make sure that they didn't worry anymore. Lark didn't want anyone to worry about her, she wanted to worry about them! With a trembling sigh, she once again like in other many nights, cried herself to sleep.

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**I hate it when I ponder too much at night... Reviews are soooo nice to get!! Thank you all!**

**Erik: ...-sighs-**


	7. Chapter 7

**Ach! Sorry I don't get on and don't update for so long! With short bans, arguements that I'm 'obsessed' with the computer, and just a plain old busy schedule, it gets really hard for me to write! Thankfully you all seem to be very patient and I thank you all for it! Weekends are starting to get busy, but I try very hard to update at least every Saturday for my maximum time limit. I hate going on too long and leaving you guys thinking: "Is she still writing or what?!?" I know the feeling. SO I have promised myself to update as soon as I can whenever I get the microscopic chance! **

**This chapter is a little more explainitory and not too much action. I apologize, the chapters WILL get better as we move along, I promise! Well, I hope you enjoy it!**

**DISCLAIMER: Never in my life have I owned Phantom. But that doesn't mean I don't want to...**

* * *

**Part Seven:**

"…the guest room was fine, thank you." Richard said as he helped himself to a biscuit. He, Lark, and Erik were seated around the kitchen table that morning, the sunlight pouring in generous amounts through the window. Lark chewed a peel off a bright, round orange while Erik sat back, observing the eating. Even though he wasn't in his original home, he still refused to eat. Or at least, in front of them per say. Rachel had gone down early in the morning to do some shopping down in the tiny village. She was currently cooking something in the little oven while washing more fruit. Erik nodded, "That's good, I thought it was a good idea to have one… How long would it have taken you two to have returned home instead?" Richard swallowed a large mouthful before replying. "Ah, a few good hours." He said. "Rachel and I are very grateful to your hospitality." Erik bowed his head once in agreement but spoke. "It was Lark who wished you both to stay here, not I. I do not mind your presence, but I will be making events comfortable for Lark instead of for myself." Richard glanced at the girl who was currently hiding behind the peel, her visible ears and skin a bright scarlet.

"And we thank you, dear," Rachel said suddenly, bearing a tray of hot scones. "We are quite lucky to know you and Erik." She set down the tray and settled between Lark and Richard, though she still avoided Erik's eyes. Apparently last night's collision was still fresh in her mind. She then turned to Lark. "Scones at 1:30," she said, pushing the tray to its designated space. Richard and Erik both looked up curiously as the child nodded, then reached out her hand. And seized a scone perfectly. Impressed with herself and with the woman's new technique, Lark took a bite of the pastry with pleasure. "Now there," Erik muttered, an aura of mild surprise, "why didn't I think of that? Very clever, mademoiselle." Rachel blushed and picked up her own scone to busy herself so as to not answer. "Me and Rachel made it up last night!" Lark said cheerfully, unaware of the awkwardness between the woman and Erik.

"'Rachel and I', Lark." Erik said, standing up. "If that works for you, then I will leave it at that." He headed for the kitchen door and left. Footsteps could be heard down the hall and his door was slammed shut. Richard sighed and rested his head in his palm. "Well, what would you like to do today, Lark?" A thoughtful look came over her face as she nibbled the scone. "Well, I did want to know what you two have been up to while we were gone," She said, smiling. "Rachel, about your painting…?" The woman laughed slightly, but it was strangely bitter. "Ah, no it's still isn't finished," she said sadly, "sometimes I wonder if I ever will." Lark nodded solemnly but Richard rolled his eyes and snorted. Instantly, things were easy as Rachel's eyes flared. "I do not see you finishing any of your silly strings, brother!" Her sibling leaned back and yawned, showing his boredom. Lark looked shocked. "You're…you're not building any more?" Richard's face remained passive but he patted the young girl's hand. "Yes, no one is ordering and I have no use for millions of instruments hanging around, right?"

"Don't look so worried!" he added hastily, spotting her crestfallen face. "It is just that sometimes I stop working just like my sister stops painting! It doesn't mean I will stop forever!" Rachel agreed and stood to clean off the table. Organ music suddenly drifted to the kitchen, filling the sunlit room with the strange tunes that Erik created out of his own mind. Everyone was paused, listening either with amazement, awe, or intensity. "I so love when Erik plays," Lark sighed happily, wanting to dance. His music was something she wouldn't lose through blindness. "He doesn't often play all his work, only parts of it, so right now is really nice, don't you think?" Richard listened, amazed. "He is very skilled…" he said, looking even more impressed with the strange masked man. Rachel suddenly gave out an annoyed cry. "Here now! It's that boy, again!" This was followed by a few oaths not repeatable and Richard's protesting of innocent ears.

"It must be him!" Lark stood up, feeling joyful. They both glanced at her, baffled. Sure enough, the door was knocked upon and before either of the adults could move a single finger, the girl was rushing down the hall she had perfectly memorized to reach the door.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Thomas Peter awkwardly came up to the door, once again jumping as he caught sight of that rather frightening door knocker. Holding a hand to his chest in hope to slow his surprised heart, he glared at the rose trapped in the dragon's jaws. "I hate that thing," he muttered before reaching up to use it. He had barely rapped the knocker twice when it was flung open and the girl was there, her face all smiles. "Hello, Thomas!" she said beaming. "It is you, isn't it?" Flabbergasted, he nodded then remembered her condition. "Oh, um, yes it's me," he said, smiling embarrassed at his simple talk. "How did you know it was me?" She seemed pleased that he asked but she laughed and shook her head. "Oh, just my friend. She um, spotted you through the window." Thomas was suddenly very glad she couldn't see him blush. "I'm sorry for startling her then," he said nervously, "I, um, well I kind of had to sneak around so that my Pa wouldn't see me." The girl cocked her head to the side in an inquiry.

"Would it be wrong to ask who this is, my dear?" Thomas started and stared at the sudden appearance of a tall, beautiful woman. Although her angelic features were set in a pleasant smile of a perfect hostess, her sapphire blue eyes were narrowed in suspicion and they scanned him up and down disapprovingly. Frankly, he wouldn't blame her for doing so. Thomas became very aware of his dirty, torn shirt and wrinkled pants. His boots were also caked with mud from the damp ground this morning. The girl, however, looked even more pleased at hearing her friend. "Oh, Rachel!" she said happily, "this is my new acquaintance, Thomas Peter." So this woman was Rachel… "Hmm, well young monsieur, it is lovely to meet you." She glanced down with a look that froze his insides. "But I do go against peering into windows that you seem to enjoy so much." Thomas let out a sort of strangled noise, feeling nervous as a rabbit. The girl pouted. "Oh, Rachel, it wasn't his fault! He was just…checking to see if anyone was here!"

"Huh?" Thomas stared at her smiling face but she aimed a well planned kick at his shins, the movement hidden by her long dress. "Ouch! Er, I mean, yes, that's right, mademoiselle!" He said, forcing himself to look at the glamorous, yet strangely threatening, older woman. "Er, I was only wondering…if _she_ was there…" He gestured helplessly to the girl who's smile widened to almost an impossible size. Without warning, all suspicion disappeared from Rachel's face and she gave Thomas a real, warm smile. "Well, with that out of the way, would you care to come in or shall I leave you both outside?" The girl looked in Thomas's direction. "I do not care which you choose." She said kindly. "Oh, thank you, um outside is fine." He said, running his hand through his unruly hair. The older woman nodded and with a graceful turn, went back into the house. The girl smiled at him. "Now I can introduce myself!" she said, clapping her hands together. "My name is Lark!"

Thomas smiled and shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Lark, I'm Thomas!" To his delight, she laughed and shook his hand firmly.

* * *

**Yay! Thomas is back in the story:D I get so happy when I make a new character come alive in a story! Hope you all like him as well! Reviews, as always, are a blessing and lifesaver! Like the red kind! ...I love the red kind...**

**Erik: ...Just review.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks for reviewing everyone! It really does help! New chapter coming your way so happy day! Oh, I just rhymed...cool! -cough- Anyways, I will still apologize for the lack of updating. You wouldn't believe how full my schedule is!! T-T Anyways, hope you can forgive me and enjoy the story!**

**DISCLAIMER: Leave me alone! I already told you all I don't own Phantom!! T-T**

* * *

**Part Eight:**

Richard watched the two young ones laugh and talk outside, his face expressionless. What was this feeling he contained as he watched Lark laugh and enjoy this boy's company? He couldn't name it, but it annoyed him. With disgust, he came away from the window and came back into the hall just as his sister sat herself on the couch. "Who is that?" he asked grumpily, coming behind her. Not even turning around to look at him, his sister brought out a well worn novel from her pocket.

"Oh, just one of the neighboring boys. His name is Thomas Peter." She paused thoughtfully. "A little on the scruffy side, but he seems very kind and most definitely enjoys Lark's presence. Looks like he needs a larger meal, though."

Rachel flipped to her spot and settled herself more comfortably on the divan, smiling once as she heard Lark's distant peal of laughter.

"I thought she didn't know any boys," her brother pressed, looking very annoyed.

Rachel sighed but refused to close her book.

"Well I don't blame her for not saying anything about him, listen to you! You're already getting worked up!"

He huffed and sat across from her in an armchair, crossing his arms and scowling. Erik's room had been silent for quite awhile, but now more music came out. It was not as entrancing as it had been that morning for it was in parts and he would often stop in the middle of it, and then play again with perhaps a new note or tempo.

"I am just concerned for her well being," Richard said, raising his voice a little.

His sister ignored him, flipping the page of her book absently. He sat back; insulted that she would not answer, and instead threw dirty looks at the closed front door.

"You should be glad she's meeting people her own age," Rachel said annoyingly, still looking in her book. "She can't always be cooped up with elders like us."

He threw a scowl at her. She was trying to prick him into arguing again, like she had ever since he was old enough to understand. One time, so long ago, she had said that arguing with him made their bond as siblings stronger. Richard never believed her, and he wasn't going to start now.

"We've known her longer than he has!" he retorted, taking the bait unwillingly.

Rachel gleefully answered.

"What more of a reason for her to get to know others! She knows us too well!"

The music had stopped and the door to Erik's room creaked open much to the siblings' unawareness. Erik leaned against the wall listening tiredly to the constant stream of bickering from the two adults and the gleeful laughter and excited conversation from Lark outside. Was he allowed no peace around here? A pang of longing filled him…when was the last time he had a glass of wine? Silent as a shadow, he made his way past the two settled in a heated disagreement and was about to enter the kitchen when Rachel stopped him, calling.

"Oh, Erik, did you want to make lunch or shall I…?"

He closed his eyes, wishing for patience. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he slowly turned around. Rachel was peering over the divan with a look of open curiosity in her heart-shaped face.

"You know I do not eat," Erik replied to her wearily. "I do not care what happens for lunch."

A startled look crossed her pretty features but she shrugged gracefully accepting his lack of caring.

"Will you call in the two children, then, as a favor? I want both of them to eat," she turned to face her brother whose face was still twisted in anger and annoyance.

"Even if you won't, Erik." she added, sighing.

Erik could almost feel his eye twitching involuntarily. No one would leave him alone about his eating habits, would they?

"Of course, mademoiselle," he purred dangerously, "if you will leave me alone afterwards and make sure _they_.." he inclined his head to the door to which he headed for, "also stay out of my way."

Richard gave another look of disgust at his sister before leaning back in his chair, refusing to even look in the young ones' and now Erik's direction. Rachel ignored him superbly.

"I promise," she said, getting to her feet to go to the kitchen. "You will be well left alone, your_ Highness_."

Erik smirked at her retreating back before opening the door and looming frighteningly over Lark and Thomas who, on the young man's part, jumped up with a yelp of surprise and fright. Lark could've waited to listen to find out who it was but then, no one really cried out for anyone she knew except…

"Hello, Erik!" she smiled in the direction of the door.

Erik's dark, beautiful voice was a joy to her ears as she felt his skeletal hand pat her head fondly. "Mademoiselle Bair would like to have you both join her in the kitchen," he purred shooting a look at Thomas who shrank back slightly. "Apparently it is lunch time."

Lark, who hadn't a clue of Thomas's discomfort, jumped up readily.

"Are you going to join us, Erik?" she asked while the boy got up and stood awkwardly by her side.

The man, he observed, looked very annoyed. He was amazed at the wide range of emotions he could show through that mask.

"No," Erik said sharply. "I eat when I please, you know that."

With that, he stalked back into the house and from the interior a bang of a door was heard.

Thomas glanced once at Lark. Would she feel terrible about that? The man was awfully strict for a father…though his own was none too different.

"Ah, that's right," she sighed instead.

He looked curiously at her.

"What's right?"

"Erik. He hates it when people press him about his eating habits. Though he does make me worry…" Lark looked off into the distance, her face creased with concern. Thomas shrugged and helped her into the house.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"So, Thomas, may I call you that? You're father is a blacksmith?"

Rachel leaned forward with interest, fixing the poor young man with her icy blue stare. Somehow, out of all the chairs in the parlor, Rachel had managed to get Thomas into the lowest one while she and Lark sat upon ones that raised them up higher. He stared up at them both, sweat trickling down his spine. This woman was crazy! They were all crazy! His vision slipped to Lark who was sitting comfortably in her own chair, eyes closed. Well, she wasn't crazy, but the rest of them were.

"Um, yes he is." Thomas replied, shrinking more in his chair. "He's the only one in the town so we get plenty of business."

Lunch had been mostly the same but with Rachel cooking, her sibling was the one talking to Thomas besides Lark. He got the distinct impression he did not like Thomas at all. 'All I wanted was to know Lark's name,' he thought to himself hopelessly, glancing at her again. 'And now I'm trapped in here being interrogated like a criminal!' She really was rather pretty…

"Thomas?" Rachel stared at him, a single eyebrow raised.

"Hm? Oh! Er, sorry…Uh, I think I have to go…" He felt all the heat go to his face. Why now of all times did he have to blush like a ninny? Getting to his feet he hurried to the door, but before leaving he turned around once. Sadly enough, Lark looked alarmed and disappointed at his quick exit.

"I promise I'll see you tomorrow, mademoiselle!" he called to her before rushing out. Rachel grinned and leaned back on the divan, a perfect scene of a contented cat.

"I think that went well, don't you?"

Lark sighed and stood up. "Where's Richard?"

"Oh he's off with Erik. I think they're working on something." Rachel scowled. "At least I hope they're actually working."

"I doubt that." Said a sour voice.

Rachel looked up into the face of her brother. "Oh! There you are." She said crossly, "go amuse Lark, she missed you!"

Baffled, he looked at Lark who was nodding. "You're avoiding me!" she accused sadly. "I can only accept it from Erik since he works so much, but…" Her shoulders drooped. Richard, alarmed, made his way over and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "Ah, Larky, you know I won't avoid you." He said reprovingly as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I know," she whispered, "but that doesn't stop me from worrying." She felt him stiffen. "You worry too much!" he said harshly, "it's not right!" He glared at his sister who held up her hands in defense.

"I am not disagreeing with you, brother," she retorted.

Her voice softened as she spoke to Lark. "Dear, it's not healthy to worry, especially at your age. You're allowed to have fun and relax a bit! Leave the business to us elders."

Her words were successful in making the girl smile and pull away from Richard. "Alright," she nodded, "alright, I…I will try not to worry. But…" she seemed to be listening hard. "Where's Erik?"

Richard coughed embarrassed. "Ah, he's in the kitchen…"

Lark made a strange face and got up, heading towards the kitchen. Rachel looked at her brother, both eyebrows raised. "So?"

Richard grimaced. "He is…none to happy about the lack of wine in the household…"

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**Mmkay, I was trying out a new way to organize the writing. Tell me if you like this way or the old way of having the text! I want everyone to enjoy reading this story and make it easier for you all so yeah! Tell me if you perfer it spaced out like this or just have me use the old way! Thanks!**

**Erik: Review, by the way.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks for reading and reviewing everyone! Erik is pleased!**

**Erik: Even though I am, she really means that she herself is pleased.**

**Picky, picky...You're ruining the plan! They might want to review and read more if you're the one who's pleased! Shhhh!**

**Erik: ...-sighs- Please enjoy the chapter and ignore the authoress.**

**DISCLAIMER: You just won't believe I don't own Phantom, will you!?**

* * *

**Part Nine:**

The kitchen was fairly easy for Lark to find. Just by running her hand over the wallpapered sides of the hallway, she had already noted little bumps and crooks to tell her where things were. How she knew where to spot the kitchen was waiting until there was nothing there to meet her hands. Also, the swift swearing had its benefits as well.

"Damn this all to bloody Hell! Hell, I say! Curse it, curse it!"

Erik's frustrated war cries could be heard a mile away. Lark rolled her eyes and came in, knocking on the wall as she did so.

"What'd wrong?" she asked curiously, leaning on the doorframe.

Erik wheeled around to ask her what she thought but fell silent with grumbles. She was staring in the wrong direction with those glassy, doll-like eyes that always succeeded in sending a chill up his spine.

"Never you mind," he said roughly, opening up more cabinets.

All he wanted was some wine, just a glass! A drop! Yet there was not a single bottle in the house! As he searched, he told himself that he should have known that Rachel, curse her, would not have thought to pick some up. She was a liar, too. Erik had a long memory and he distinctly remembered her telling him that she knew all about his novelty for wine.

As he searched, he rubbed his mask irritably. It was getting warmer as the days passed by, and with each increase in the temperature, wearing something over ones face got very uncomfortable. It seemed to be rubbing in a few places as well much to Erik's displeasure. Lark had wandered in carefully measured steps to his side.

"It's bothering you, isn't it?" she asked softly, "your mask…"

He scowled up at her and pushed her firmly away so he could search the bottom cabinets in vain.

"I do not recall bringing up that subject nor any other with you," he growled. "But I will ask something of you anyways."

"What's that?"

Erik's eyes flashed angrily as he leapt to his feet, punching the air with a fierce war cry at each emphasis.

"Do we have any _blasted_, _damned_, _bloody_ wine around here or not?!"

"Hmm," Lark's face twitched slightly as she fought a smile. "I'm afraid to say the answer…"

Erik gave a disgusted noise and sat down at the kitchen table, furious with himself, the house, Rachel, that one boy, and nearly everything in sight. Besides Lark, it was kind of hard at the moment to be angry at her. Especially when she looked in the wrong direction when she spoke to someone, now that was just amusing. She then sighed and also grabbed a chair to sit down. Lark probably meant to have sat gracefully without error but found her foot locked around something….and fell promptly to the floor in a perfect face plant.

"WAHH!"

Erik stared at her in a moment of shock then as she lifted her face with a look of complete bewilderment, the strain on his anger was broken and he threw back his head instead to laughter. Unharmed, but still frazzled, Lark smiled up at him blearily and got to her feet.

"I meant to do that." She sniffed pompously, smoothing out her rumpled dress.

Erik's only answer was rumbling laughter, barely concealed by his long, thin hand.

"Of course, mademoiselle." He said wickedly. "I knew it all along."

There were quick footsteps in the hall and Erik glanced over to barely get a glance at Richard's back as he rushed into the kitchen.

"What happened? I heard you scream…" he said harried, looking over Lark.

She laughed lightly and shrugged.

"Ah, well I just kind of…tripped."

"You know how she is," Erik added still smirking. Richard laughed, relieved.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Rachel had fallen asleep on the divan, an arm slung over her eyes in a thoroughly exhausted pose. She never knew quite well what made her so tired… In her mind, scenes flashed before her eyes all seeming to contain the ones she loved. Richard, Lark, even Erik all dancing around in her head in different patterns of dreams. And nightmares. Her painting, still unfinished, still imperfect twirling about her. It's empty canvas spilling out the paint that looked disturbingly like blood. A black mask, mocking her. 'You don't even see me,' it said scornfully, 'you don't bother trying to understand me.'

'I try!' she cried hopelessly. 'Oh! You know I try!' It laughed at her before changing into a new shape. Lark appearing, getting more weak, more helpless as she wandered down a dark tunnel.

'Help me! I'm lost!' she cried in a voice no more than an echo. 'Help me, it's so dark!'

'Lark!' Rachel called out. 'I am over here!'

But she was stuck fast to the floor. Even her brother was there but he was dark and unresponsive and only glared after the stumbling Lark.

'Help her!' she cried, furious. He looked neither at her nor anywhere else.

'I can't.' he said. His voice, even though it was like an echo, contained a deep, hidden pain inside. 'Oh, would she let me…?' Afterwards, even Richard disappeared.

'Why can't I help?' Rachel wailed, 'Why can't I move to help?'

"….mademoiselle?"

Tears were streaming down her face, but even when she flailed about, the woman did not wake. Erik's expressions were hid by the mask but he raised a single finger and poked her sharply in the shoulder. He had left Lark and Richard to enjoy each others' company in the kitchen to find Rachel. No doubt, he was very surprised and troubled to find her trapped in whatever nightmare she was having.

"You cannot sleep now, wake up." He said, giving another poke as he received no response to the first. She let out a helpless wail but her eyes remained closed. "Rachel," Erik murmured hesitantly, leaning over her.

Rachel suddenly sobbed aloud and sat up quickly, tears running freely from her now wide, wet, open eyes. Unfortunately for the both of them, Erik could not move his head away quick enough causing them to smack heads together. "Ouch…!" They both yelled out, gripping their battered faces. Erik gritted his teeth together tightly as he held his masked face away. Something warm and sticky trickled from underneath the mask onto his fingers. With a guttural groan he fell away from the divan in pain. His skin, even as it was under the tough material of the mask, was still delicate and easy to break. With such a hard knock to the side, it had broken in a slash across his cheek underneath.

Rachel tasted blood instead of feeling it as Erik's head had collided with the underside of her jaw, causing her to bite her tongue. With a few tears of pain mixed in with the others, she turned to her blurred eyes to the dark figure near her. It took her quite a minute to realize who it was and when she did she gasped aloud, forgetting her throbbing tongue.

"Oh! Erik, Erik, I'm so sorry! Are you all right…?" she spotted blood on his fingers and felt even worse and slightly panicked.

"Oh no! You're bleeding! I'm so sor—!"

He held up a hand, blinking his eyes to rid them of the tears that had watered against the sharp pang.

"It's fine! It's fine!" he said hastily, retreating, "just a small cut…"

"You're gushing blood!"

"You, mademoiselle, are over-reacting. I assure you, it is nothing."

"Nothing!" Now Rachel had gotten up from the sofa to hurry to Erik's side. "You call this nothing? Let me look at it…"

"DON'T…!" Erik slapped away her hand as it reached to uncloak his face. She took a startled step back, alarmed at his violent reaction. Silence rang out throughout the room, the soft undisturbed mutterings from the kitchen unruffled by the outbreak. Erik seemed to realize what he had done after the moment of silence. Numbly he slid his hand underneath to feel the cut. Rachel remained immovable and tense. He let out a long shaky breath, like he had been holding it in for some time.

"I apologize, mademoiselle, but I cannot have you remove it." He said awkwardly.

She just stared at him with wide eyes. He shifted edgily and switched tactics.

"You must also be injured….that was quite a blow to your jaw."

Rachel nodded mutely. The uncomfortable silence persisted.

"What did you want help for…?" he asked finally, hoping to have her forget his reaction.

"Help…?" she echoed, and then remembered her dream. "Oh! I was…um…stuck."

"Stuck." He repeated.

"Yes. But it, it doesn't matter. You should clean out your injury…" Rachel curtsied once then left suddenly, leaving Erik to stand by himself, shrouded in the shadows. Careful to look around for anyone, Erik dolefully removed his mask and retreated to his room. Closing the door, his face turned so that none could see even if they were to spy upon him. Rachel, who had hidden around the corner, sank to her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs.

"Why can't I help?" she asked softly, the tears returning. "Why can't I ever help?"

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**Mmmk, I hope that this way will be more comfortable for you all to read and I hope you loved the chapter! Poor Rachel, she seems to cause a lot of trouble doesn't she...? Ah well...**

**Erik: -reads hastily written script by authoress- 'Review and be rewarded.' What do you mean by that? -suspicious-**

**... Uhhh, gotta go write another chapter! -runs-**


	10. Chapter 10

**Greetings again from me! I hope you have been enjoying your read for I have been enjoying my writing! Ah, this chapter I felt absolutely satisfied with so enjoy and thank you all for reviewing!! I had a few remarking on Rachel's character and remarking she's getting a little out of it. I can't really say she's getting _out_ of character because I am still working on what her character _is._ Still, I apologize, and I will try to make my own creations more directly from their blueprints. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Phantom. And niether do you. So HA!**

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**Part Ten:**

Thomas had already been over to chat, and Richard had gone back with Rachel to their home one hot, Sunday afternoon. Lark wandered around the house, bored almost to tears. Normally she would be curled up in something cool with a book settled on her lap but…being blind had many faults for her to cope with. She sighed sadly and wished that Thursday would come sooner. Richard had promised, after seeking Erik's permission, to come back to visit them. Even though she knew he had work and had another life to deal with, it was awfully quiet in the small house without him and Rachel clamoring around. Erik had been playing softly in the back round for a few hours now, and she didn't want to bother him just so he could amuse her. He already threw a pen at her when she did try. Lark smiled ruefully and felt her way to her favorite armchair in her room. Rachel had been rather more quiet and solemn before they left, she reflected to herself, sinking into her chair. And she refused to look at Erik all the rest of the two days they stayed.

"Hmm, I wonder what happened..?" she murmured to herself, swinging her feet.

Erik had also avoided talking or looking at Rachel though he was still quite kind and polite. She hoped it wasn't her doing. His mask was bothering him more in the heat as well. Lark could hear him sigh with impatience whenever she heard the small snap of his mask's straps as he tried to adjust it more comfortably.

"I don't know why he wears it now since I'm-…"

Inspiration hit her like an arrow and she shot up from her chair.

"Oh! I know what to say!"

With that, she bounded out of her room to head over to Erik's.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Music. The one thing that Erik could not, nor would not, abandon in all his remaining life. It was the pounding of his heart, the air in his lungs, his food and drink. It was his lover and friend; mother, father, brother, and sister. Music, easy to say, was his life. Such as his soul he poured out all in the tip of an inked pen. Some crisp white music sheets lay on his desk, eagerly awaiting the genius that would splash across its splendid pages. Yet, as it will go for such musical wonders, he was at a loss of the melody that was trapped in his mind. They pleaded to be released so that they, too, may share their magnificence to the world that craved their beauty.

He sighed heavily and replaced his pen, his ideas at leave from him for now. They would be back, but they now had rendered him hopeless for a time.

"If only, if only," he murmured wistfully to himself, twirling the pen between his emaciated fingers.

With another longing look at his work, he mutely placed it tenderly in their rightful drawers promising to himself that he would get it finished soon. The sun, so bright that afternoon, was neatly tucked out of reach in this room. Erik thought himself very wise to pick the only room in the house without a window. The light was still bothersome and harsh to his eyes that had seen only darkness and the light of a candle for many a good centuries in his life. He was still musing silently to himself, tapping the pen lightly in an unconscious beat when his door creaked its way open behind him.

"Let me guess, you have another idea?" he drawled, knowing exactly who was behind him.

Lark, for it indeed was her, only smiled widely and felt her way to his coffin, plopping in. Her legs and arms stuck out oddly from the dark wood box but she still beamed with delight and bounced enthusiastically on the dark, red velvet cushions.

"You guess correct, Erik!" she praised. He scowled.

"What is it now?" he sighed, turning around in his chair, wrapping his long arms around the back.

Her face pouted unhappily.  
"Oh, now you make me feel like I do this all the time!"

"You do."

"Do not!" she cried out, outrage and amusement battling for victory over her expressions. "Anyways, Erik, I know that….that your mask bothers you in the heat."

"No, don't lie," she added as he had begun to protest loudly. "It does, and I can tell it becomes very uncomfortable for you to wear it all day. So I was thinking…" she twirled a lock of her hair around her finger involuntarily. "Would it be so terrible if, if you just…took it off?"

He made no reply so as to let her know what was going on inside of him. Lark continued rather timidly, but still firmly enough to get her idea across.

"Erik," she said solemnly, "you and I both know I am completely blind. Even when I did see, I saw your true face. I think you would be more comfortable if you took it off while in the house."

"I see."

"Do you?" she asked. "I just…don't want you to be discomforted here. This is our home now, right? Shouldn't you be at ease in your own home?"

Erik was silent, pondering what she was saying. Yes, he would admit it, wearing a mask was horrible in hot weather. When he lived down in the cellars of the Opera, way before Christine –here he grimaced from the dull, slashing pain that would linger still- he had strolled among his home like a castle. Bare-faced and free to do as he wished. He looked at the young woman before him, her face creased with tension. All she wanted was for them to be happy. No one would care if he died or lived, but she did. While he was still living, she wanted him to be at bliss!

"I understand what you are saying and I thank you for thinking of me," he said slowly. The barest hint of a smile started to shine on her face, like the sun peeking out hopefully through thick grey clouds.

"If you would be comfortable knowing I am…exposed, I shall take up your offer."

She clapped her hands together, delighted.

"Oh! Yes, yes, of course!" she gushed joyfully, "I'm happy when you are happy, Erik! Do take it off now! Do, do!"

"Very well, don't lose your head, now."

Carefully, he reached behind his head, cupping the mask's cheeks with his palms. And slid ever so slowly, the white silk material that once covered his entire face. Coolness was the first bliss he felt as he removed it. The lukewarm air was free to dance across his bare features, cooling them whereas the mask had once heated them to near the limit.

"Oh, that's nice," he muttered involuntarily, letting out a relieved sigh. "That is much, much more enjoyable."

Lark beamed in his direction and removed her body from the coffin, carefully making her way over to his side. His vision had broadened, Erik noticed as she came to him, and he could see clearly, oh so clearly, out of the corners of his eyes. She came up to him shyly.

"Erik?"

"Yes?"

She hesitated, almost blushing in her embarrassment.

"I know this is awkward for you but…can I…" she raised her hands close to his face, almost touching yet so far away. "…your face…" she trailed off.

Erik understood and even though she was correct in saying it made him uncomfortable, he willingly let her fingers press gently against the naked flesh of his face.

A small grin lightened her features as she softly traced the crooks and lines of her guardian's distorted visage, remembering clearly now how it had looked the first time she saw him. When Lark reached his eyes, she found them shut and when she felt his mouth it was straight and firm. No one could be more like a statue than Erik could in that moment. His forehead was high and his chin was proud, but there were parts missing, and patches not quite like a normal face would be.

"I remember when I first saw you," she commented, chuckling a bit. "You are very much threatening when you have a mask on, you know."

"I am more of a fright without it, as you also may recall." He replied, still holding very still.

"I don't think so…."  
"Well, you are a much different case, now, aren't you?"

She laughed softly at this, and was much more careful now as her fingers explored the region where his very nose should have been. Extra cautious not to harm the delicate skin, she quickly moved on for Lark could tell by the way his stiffened that he did not like that at all.

"How did you cut yourself?" she scolded once finding the newly healing scab.

He shrugged and made no comment. She then pulled away; satisfied that she should forever remember his unique disarray of a face for always.

"I surely cannot tell why anyone thinks you to be frightening," she observed, retreating back to the coffin while Erik leaned back in his chair. "Your very face is a work of art."

Erik snorted.

"One of which none would dare to approach for fear of becoming another canvas." He remarked dryly.

She just laughed.

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**Hope you like! I am, again, very pleased with how I did this chapter and I hope you are too! Review and tell me what you think! They're always welcome!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Okay, I deserve to be boiled in frog spawn. Sorry I haven't been able to give you all an update! It makes me feel horrible when I have all the time in the world yet I can't even work on my story. T-T But behold! I bring you one in hopes of winning my life! Hah ha, hope it's to your tastes...**

**Such kind reviews I get! Thank you so much!! I got so many lovely ones just slathering on the praise, I'm afraid it might go to my head! Again, thanks for reviewing and enjoy the story update!**

**DISCLAIMER: You and I both know I don't own Phantom, so why bring up such a...a sad topic? T-T

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Part Eleven: 

"Stop being silly, Rachel!" Richard cried, exasperated.

Back at their own home, tension between brother and older sister were restored to their former glory. It had mostly been brought on to full force through being stuck in the same carriage together for several hours. Many a head would turn as their raised voices made their way to the pedestrians on the street. Back at the Bair mansion, however, Rachel's voice was muffled. Yet the anger in it was still strong and tangible through her workroom door.

"I am working! Working is not being silly, Richard!" she cried out, "Even you cannot protest that it is! Go away!"

"No! Not until you come out!"

Richard pounded on the door in frustration. How was it that his sister had to be the most stubborn female ever known to the human race? No doubt he was accustomed to this, but she had gotten even more stubborn when they left Lark's. Once through the door of their home, she was up the stairs and shutting herself in her workroom without another word. Aggravating beyond belief.

"There is not a reason why I should!" she snapped back. "Now go away! How many times must I tell you!?"

"You…! I can't…!" Richard's eye twitched as he raged at the door. "You're so difficult!"

Rachel remained mute.

"_Women_!" Richard near yelled as he stomped away and down the stairs.

Rachel opened the door once sticking her head out.

"_Men!_" she yelled back.

A small triumphant grin split across her face as she listened to her brother's raging get dimmer as he went farther away. Carefully she closed the door behind her and leaned against it. Her grin was gone the moment she looked back up at her workshop. There stood the thing that had caused her so much grief over. The picture that she had been working on for nearly a year stood in front of her on its stand, covered by its protective sheet. She had been standing but she found herself sinking to her knees with a sad sigh.

"I'll never finish it, and I might as well go mad from trying!" she muttered, throwing it a dark look.

She also cursed Erik silently. It was truly mocking to have a man such as him be quite within her reach to paint and use as the perfect model for her painting. She had, both he and Lark knew, used Erik's skeletal body structure for the monsieur in her work. But even after so much time, the painted man still remained headless. She needed the face to be perfect. It couldn't be the same as any other man's. Yet how could she do so when all she had ever seen was normal men's faces? Erik once had said to them while sitting on the curb when Lark had been taken:

"_Why, mademoiselle," he said softly, "do you think I wear this?"_

His mask. A burden lay beneath that had stopped him from seeking Lark. Richard, her own brother had added:

"_People fear what they do not understand."_

"I want…to understand…." Rachel said softly, picturing Erik's masked figure. "I want to understand…"

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Walking around the house without the feeling of a mask on his face was very strange and almost inhuman to Erik the next few days. They had no mirrors, for there was no use for them. And then they only got Thomas as a visitor where Erik would promptly go into his room, locking it of course, and work on his music until the boy left. It was a very free sort of lifestyle. As Erik stalked the halls, Lark had announced a while back that she needed some rest, he reflected on what it would be like to put his mask back on when the Bair's arrived. Richard had seemed eager enough to see Lark again, and Rachel had agreed as well quite cheerfully.

"So peculiar…" Erik muttered thoughtfully to himself, looking back at his companion's perplexing behavior. "Ever eager...strange for one such as Monsieur Bair…"

He was used to such eagerness from Lark to see her companions but for Richard himself…it was quite odd.

"_Lark and I were wondering," he had said awkwardly, "If I could come again to…to visit her soon."_

_Erik looked up._

"_I just have some work to do, but I would like to see her very, very soon!" Richard said smiling a little, "if it's okay, I can come as soon as Thursday! I'd come sooner but my work…"_

"_Lark is free to have whoever she pleases over. You do not need my consent." Erik replied, raising an eyebrow._

_Richard's face split into the normal, over-sized smile._

"_Thank you, monsieur! Very much! It is such a pleasure, you see, to be able to visit Lark after so long." _

"_Indeed…"_

Normally Erik found Richard a very calm, considerate man, slow paced, and very respectful and polite. Except, of course, when his sister taunted him into his anger fits. It was odd to find him so excited in seeing Lark again. Such enthusiasm sparkled in the young man's eyes Erik had feared he would knock something over in his haste. Before he passed Lark's room for about the third time –for the house wasn't that big to do some good pacing- he stopped. Slowly, he opened her door, wincing at its old creaking. There was going to be a need of some oil soon. Thankfully Richard and Erik had managed to move in everything from the past week and Lark slept peacefully in her own bed.

It bothered him tremendously to look at her sleep now, for she looked as though she were dead. Her eyes never opened now even when she was awake. Conquered, said she, the habit of opening her useless eyes. Was her chest even moving? He couldn't tell. Feeling slightly panicked, Erik crossed the room in only two long strides to be at her side. His own heart skipped painfully as he rashly pressed a hand to her soft cheek.

"Lark, wake up." He demanded, not sure as to shake her or not.

Thankfully, she moved, holding one of her hands to his.

"Mm, do I have to, now?"

The sudden vision of her dead body laying cold and still in the bed haunted Erik still further to the point he wanted to shake her to make sure. Why he was so affected by this, even he could not say.

"Lark, please open your eyes," he begged. He had to see them open…like normal. The way they were supposed to be.

A crease formed on her forehead but she obediently opened her glassy eyes. At once, that horrifying feeling left Erik and he relaxed.

Lark still held confusion in her face and she sat up slowly, unknowing of where Erik could be.

"Are you alright…?" she asked him, trying to feel where he was.

She felt his hand slide from her face and rest in her searching fingers. His cold, death hands startled her, but she clasped on, thankful for something to hold.

"I am…fine." He said finally, getting up.

Eager to change the subject, he switched to something she enjoyed.

"So is that boy coming again, today?"

Lark still stared at him suspiciously but the topic was too enjoyable to resist. She sighed and shook her head.

"He had to work with his father today, but…but Thomas said he'll see me tomorrow."

"Father's a blacksmith, correct?"

"Yes." Lark nodded cheerfully, "He has to get as good as his Papa so that he can take over the business."

"Hmm. He seems intelligent enough."

"Oh, you're nice, Erik." She said dryly, rolling her fogged eyes.

Even though she could not see him, he bowed gallantly.

"I try my best."

"Of course you do."

The girl struggled with the tangled covers and moved off the side to get up. Since it was just a nap, she had slept in her normal attire and the only difference was that her hair was mussed and her dress wrinkled.

She never did anything to her hair but brushed it, and wasn't going to start asking Erik if he could help her get ready for the day. It would be maximum awkwardness on both sides so Lark left her looks quite alone. What did it matter to her if she looked messy? She couldn't see the disapproving looks anyways. Such as that, sometimes being blind wasn't all about faults.

"Don't forget that Richard is coming over in three days!" she chimed, tripping over her feet.

Almost automatically, she could feel Erik stoop to right her and keep her on her feet. His voice was the only one she could always hear his mood in, no matter how he tried to hide it.

"How can I?" he said exasperated, "When you constantly remind me so such as you did?

She gave a wicked grin and thanked him for helping her keep her head on her shoulders.

"You'd lose it if I wasn't around to catch it." Erik remarked, turning around to leave the room.

Lark was about to respond but she paused as if listening to something.

"Someone's going to knock on the door…" she murmured, sounding very certain.

"What?"

Erik glanced back at her, staring at her still figure in the middle of a pool of sunshine. Her face was open, and gentle. Her eyes she had closed again. In merely a moment, just as she had guessed so assumingly, a knock came on the door.

"How did you know that?" Erik said quickly, eyes widening.

She was silent a moment longer but replied a little hesitantly. "I-I heard them walking up the pathway."

"From inside this room?"

"Yes." She looked startled but pleased.

The knock came again, a little harder but Erik and Lark stood silently. The girl was thoughtful while the man stood shocked.

"Get the door then…" Erik said, almost faintly.

"O-okay!" Lark hurried down the hallway, surprised. Thomas was working and Ricahrd wasn't due until three more days. She pondered on who it could be as she reached for the door handle. As for Erik, he habitually headed to his room, his head spinning from what he had just witnessed. Amazing! He thought dizzily. Just amazing! With one of her senses relieved from her, another strategically becomes stronger….

"How about that?" He muttered.

* * *

**Eeeh, I'm not to sure if I liked this one or not. Too much talking. And I seem to go by day by day...need to pick up pace here! ;-;**

**Erik: Review so she'll shut up.**


	12. Chapter 12

**ARGH! You won't believe how sorry I am! Writer's block! Trips! No computers! o-0 It was horrible! I assure you that I know what I am writting now and I will be updating more quickly. Thank you ALL for your patience! Bless you!**

**DISCLAIMER: Never owned Phantom...must we go over this again???**

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Part Twelve: **

Lark reached the door with less difficulty than she had had back two weeks ago. When they had first arrived, she had banged into any surface both possible and seemingly impossible for her to reach. Erik, furious that she managed to put more bruises on her than he notes on a page, had threatened to lock her in her room with cushions everywhere. It had been then that she assured him that she would learn where things were. He had not been there when Lark was held at the De Chagny mansion, and he had not known completely how she had learned to walk about without harming herself.

Another knock came after two seconds after the last.

"Pushy…" Lark muttered, but opened the door. "May I help yo-..?" She started off courteously.

A harsh, rather croaky voice came through and dug itself into Lark's poor skull like screws.

"Would you like your fortune told?" the voice demanded rather hysterically, like it would die if she refused its whim. If Lark could see, she probably would have slammed the door shut right that very moment and not talked at all. The woman on the doorstep, for that was who it was, looked very alarming indeed. With many bangles around her thin wrists and many-a-beaded necklaces, the woman's rickety figure dominated the step. Her flyaway hair looked ready to blow off her high forehead while her wide brown eyes held a look of insanity.

Oh, her mind was there, it was just frazzled.

"W-what…?" Lark asked uncertainly, wishing she knew who it was.

A sharp, clicking noise came from beneath her nose. The woman had started snapping her bridle fingers together impatiently.

"Your fortune, dearie. I read palms. You want? Fair price."

"Oh!" Lark's face lightened considerably even with eyes closed. She remembered people who could tell fortunes…Her Mama, before the accident, sometimes took Lark to fairs and festivals. There would be all sorts of people there and some of them were fortune tellers. They used, if she remembered correctly, different ways and styles. Cards, flowers, people's hands, even tea leaves and once one lady had a large crystal ball that seemed to have its own glow. Mama had made sure Lark never went near some of these strange folk.

"_Pagans, dear,"_ she had reprimanded Lark once while catching her daughter trying to get her fortune told by an ancient looking gypsy. _"Are not to be messed with. They'll steal your money and get you in much trouble! Stay away from them, hear?"_

Lark had obediently stayed away every time they went to another festival or fair, but her eyes still wandered to the brightly colored tents. Now was her chance, and Mama wouldn't have to worry about her because Erik was in his room! He would come as quickly as possible, if she ever called for him and needed him.

"You do fortunes?" Lark echoed.

A jangling noise came from her. Perhaps a nod of the head?

"Of course, dearie." The woman croaked. "Fair price…You seem to have a bright future ahead, if I may read."

She stood there silently and opened her mouth.

"How much…?"

A delighted cackle came from the woman not unkindly.

"Oh, you are a good miss indeed! Such a sweet dearie. For you, it will be only five francs."

Lark didn't know how much it would normally cost so she decided to take that as a compliment. Smiling, hoping she was looking at the person, she motioned for the fortune teller to enter.

"Come in, it'll be much more comfortable inside than out…" she offered graciously.

"You're such a dear, letting a pour old girl like myself in," the woman warbled, "four francs!"

"Oh, you don't have to lower it…" Lark said, blushing modestly.

Unsure if she would be able to lead the way, Lark took a step back from the door and banged her head on the doorframe. Cursing under her breath, a habit won from Erik, she heard by the clanking of the fortune teller that she never heard her bop her head. Rather than feeling insulted, Lark was grateful to not have the woman worry over her. She would leave such things to Rachel and Richard.

"Lovely home!" the woman said agreeably.

She must have been near the hallways and for Lark it was very easy for her to find this fortune teller. The clanking and clicking was louder than Erik, Richard, and Rachel walking put together!

"Such wonderful chairs, matching the paper on the walls, too!"

The woman praised everything she saw and the more she did, the more Lark blushed.

"We can sit here," she said, feeling her way to the couch.

The woman's weight barely made the divan's cushion go down and her constant clanking and jangling kept her well in Lark's hearing range. The fortune teller leaned forward eagerly.

"Now, let's see those pretty palms and we will see your future…."

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Murmurings came from the other side of Erik's door and drifted into his perked ears. He had gone into his room after she had gotten the door but that didn't stop him from listening in to make sure he found out who the hell it was. Leaning against the doorframe, his curiosity slowly dwindled when he heard Lark's relaxed voice. A small bang told him as he winced that she had also knocked against something.

"Clumsy girl," he muttered to himself, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

Tempted to go off and check on her, he was alarmed to hear so much….rattling going on.

Erik crept softly across the carpet, barely even touching the floor. All he needed was a mere glance at the visitor and he would be satisfied. Maybe it would have been better though, as Erik turned the corner, if he had never seen the newcomer. A cackle came as a wild looking woman peered closely at Lark's open hand.

"A good long lifeline, dearie," she said creakily, "and, oh my, what's this…?"

Lark's face remained calm but excitement lightened her otherwise opaque eyes. Erik stared bemused at the fortune teller. The woman's forehead creased.

"My, my, I see two…for one so young this is interesting!"

"What is it?" Lark cocked her head to the side.

The woman cackled but continued to peer at her hand.

"You also have…my word! A dark stranger with you…" the woman laughed, sounding like a rusty hinge. "Don't go out late at night, which is my tip, dearie…"

Lark just smiled a secret smile. There was no doubt on who was her 'dark stranger.'

Erik however rolled his eyes, wincing at her guffaws. So much pain it brought to an ear that was used to only hearing beautifully tuned things! If this frenzied looking creature had been any type of instrument, Erik would have smashed it to bits like he did to a certain old viola….

"I need some tea…" he grumbled then cringed as the woman let out a bloodcurdling shriek.

"DARK FIGURE!" she bellowed, leaping up. "BEGONE, DEMON-!"

Lark looked alarmed at the woman's reaction to Erik for she knew he was around. The footsteps he took were uniquely muffling on the carpet but still she heard him. Erik, knowing he had been discovered, stepped out; thankful he had remembered to replace his mask.

"No demon am I!" He said sourly, "For God's sake, woman, don't scream!"

The woman stared at him wild eyed then threw a panicked glance at Lark who smiled gently.

"Erik, you should've announced yourself better, you nearly gave her a heart attack!"

"Ah, but she _chose_ to give out that unearthly shriek."

The woman mimicked Erik's sour attitude when she heard she was being insulted.

"I am palm reading." She said sulkily. "You who hides your face however…."

"Oh, he just likes to cover up." Lark said airily, "He's my Papa."

"Oh." The woman threw a look of disapproval in Erik's direction which he kindly returned with a threatening stare. They stared throwing daggers at each other a moment longer before he sighed and swept towards the kitchen.

"Forget tea," he grumbled, "I need wine….and Lark, make sure you send this…Madame out as soon as she is done. It _is_ my money that is being given to her, _non_?"

Lark smiled meekly.

"Yes, Erik…"

The fortune teller huffed.

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**Revvvveeeeiws are my cravings! Happy Halloween!**

**Erik: It's TOMORROW.**

**Oh...oops...**


	13. Chapter 13

**I love it when people guess at things in stories!! It let's me know you all are paying attention! Thank you all, faithful readers, for reviewing and reading! **

**Erik: Do not forget putting up with your prattling.**

**Ouch...yeah, that, too! On with the next chapter, you all deserve it!!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Phantom, I don't own Phantom, I don't have a life, I don't own Phantom, I don't own Phantom, I don't own Phantom, I don't own Phantom, I don't own Phan...**

**

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Part Thirteen: **

"A fortune teller…" Thomas repeated.

Lark nodded and leaned back in the tall, golden brown grass, basking in the warm sunrays. Thomas had come over to spend the afternoon with her, with the special permission from his father. They both sat in the backyard, talking and sharing what each of them did for that day. The boy pulled at the long grass while Lark rested beside him.

"It was so strange, but she read my palm!" Lark continued happily, "I've always been told to avoid them but….well you know."

"Um, I don't want to be rude or anything," He said awkwardly, "But did….your Da or someone tell you what she looked like?"

"No, but it is okay for you to ask." Lark said cheerfully. "I'm sure she looked like any other fortune teller."

"Well she might have…not."

The young woman frowned a little and flipped over to lie on her stomach, hopefully stared directly at her new friend.

"Not?" she echoed. "What can you mean by that, Thomas?"

She felt his rough fingers gently tug a lock of her hair, teasingly.

"There is endless ways I can mean something, don't you think?" he asked, laughing.

She smiled but persisted.

"Come now, please?" she begged, catching his finger in her hand as it started to move away. "A hint is all I'm looking for!"

He sighed and did not pull away, but moved closer in order to rest more comfortably as his trapped finger wiggled against its prison.

"Ach, Lark," –she could hear his smile in his tone- "if the world always gave you a hint, it'd be easy to figure things out, eh?"

"Not always," she countered, "sometimes we will be given hints and riddles that no one understands!"

They remained silent a moment longer as the lazy cry of a crow came from overhead. The warm breeze tickled their noses and brought the fresh, musky scent of dried grass and crisp, green tree leaves. From inside the house behind them came the soft trickling of an organ, Erik of course. There wasn't enough sound to hear the melody, but just enough to let one know someone was playing extraordinarily well. Thomas would have barely noticed it even if it was louder than the familiar bird cries and wind and the natural sound of nature. Almost as if the music was part of nature itself….

"Thomas?"

He started, unaware that he had been daydreaming. He looked down at Lark who was peering worriedly up over his shoulder, her usually smooth forehead wrinkled, aging her five years or so in appearance.

"Sorry….I was listening to your Da play…" he mumbled, running a thumb comfortingly over her palm.

She relaxed and her sunny smile, almost too large for her face, returned.

"He is good, isn't he?"

"Oh, very! He is a genius at it."

She got a smug look on her face and she struggled to her feet. Thomas reacted quickly and jumped up to give her a hand as she groped blindly around for something to steady her. As he slid his hand into hers, he noticed that the lost, almost frightened look that came about her eyes when she was walking left and her smile widened to an impossible size.

"Why don't we go inside to hear him better?" she offered innocently, though a wicked spark gleamed in her glassy eyes.

The young man observed her suspiciously but faltered at her sweetness.

"If you wish…" he said.

"I do."

Entering the house, it was noticeably darker in light, and most of the curtains were drawn over the windows. Lark seemed entirely comfortable in these conditions and walked around with confidence she had shed when taking a step outside.

"We keep it darker in here because Eri- …er, my Papa doesn't like the light for he has light skin," she commented, sensing Thomas' uncomfortable footsteps as he followed her. "I'm also blind, as you know, so it doesn't matter to me. It's always dark in my world!"

Even though she spoke with a carefree smile, bitterness laced her voice. The music they sought after continued to increase. Though it was still beautiful, there was sorrow in the song like bruises on the wounded petals of a delicate rose. Thomas listened with awe, feeling almost lightheaded. It was only the pressure of Lark's small hand in his that kept him in the present.

"Are you sure he won't be angry if we disturb him?" he whispered half consciously.

Lark shook her head and felt her hand on the door where the music spilled out of, missing it again and again.

"Here…"

Thomas guided her hand to the knob and took a step back. Lark froze for merely a moment before looking over her shoulder to smile, and turn the door open.

"Oh, Errrrik!" she cried gleefully.

The music stopped at once and there was a slight scuffle along with the irritated voice of her guardian.

"Lark!" Erik hissed, a candle's weak flame casting a wavering light on the mask. "I told you time and time again, I'm busy!"

"Sorry," she said truthfully. It made her sad to make Erik upset. "I just wanted to ask you a question."

Thomas's jaw dropped open at her deceit. He _knew_ she would have asked her Da about the fortune teller he talked about! Overwhelmed with both horror and embarrassment for himself and for Lark, the boy didn't notice Erik's hands hastily tying the mask straps back in place. He had been playing with it off.

"…At least knock next time," Erik said exasperated, "so I can be…." He threw a dagger glance at Thomas who took a hasty step back. "_Decent_."

Lark bowed her head.  
"I promise I'll do that next time."

Erik huffed and turned back to the great organ.

"Sure, sure…." He grumbled out loud, shuffling through his music sheets. "Promises she forgets that she's promised."

Here they started to bicker, giving the awkward feeling Thomas a chance to look around the room. They would be at it for a few minutes from what Thomas had learned over the times he had come over to visit. Without much light, it was difficult to see the room, but he was able to make out the organ which Erik sat at, a desk, a wardrobe and…. His eyes widened and squinted at the same time. Was that a coffin??

"….right, Thomas?" Lark demanded suddenly.

Thomas tore his eyes away from the morbidly dark shape in the corner of the room.

"Oh, sure." He agreed automatically.

Lark gave a triumphant grin.

"See, Erik? We just wanted to ask a simple question."

Erik glanced at the boy, taking in his shocked expression with a scowl.

"What are you looking at, monsieur?" Erik said sharply, rising to his feet.

Thomas looked even more alarmed.

"N-Nothing, messier, nothing!" he stuttered. "I thought I saw….well, no, I didn't see anything….um, ask away, Lark." He finished, hoping to lure the masked man's attention back to the girl.

Fortunately it worked. Barely as it did, Erik's golden eyes slide back to Lark and crossed his arm impatiently.

"Make it quick, Lark." He said, "I have things to do besides talk to adolescents."

Lark, wasting no time now spoke it bluntly.  
"What did the Gypsy woman look like?"

Erik's scowl was palpable even though his mask covered up most of his emotions.

"Like a maniac," he said sourly, "even more than you. Dressed up like she was the real thing…though I must admit, she acted her part well."

Lark looked befuddled.

"What do you mean, 'acted'?"

"She was no pure blood Gypsy, just a plain, addled brain of a woman trying to pull it off." His voice got lower, more menacing. Softer to the point that the two young ones moved forward slightly to catch what he murmured. "Do you think I would let real Gypsy scum come across this threshold?"

Thomas didn't understand but it must've meant something to Lark for she merely looked saddened.

"No…" she said softly, "no, of course not….Let us go now, Thomas. My Papa would like to continue working in peace."

"Thank you." Erik said grumpily, suddenly back into his usual sarcastic mood.

Thankful to leave the dark, sinister room and the equally sinister masked man, Thomas followed her out of the chamber with a sense of relief.

Lark closed the door and turned to head towards a seat in the parlor which she promptly half fell, half sat in a plush armchair.

"Well, you were right!" she said cheerfully, all past mood vanquished, "She wasn't as she seemed! Who would've known a regular woman could act like a Gypsy…?"

Thomas coughed and sank on the couch close to her.

"Probably me Mum…" he muttered, blushing.

Lark's eyes permanent stare seemed to intensify.

"Oh." Was all she could reply.

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**I wonder if anyone guessed this...? xD Hope you all enjoyed! The next ones to come will come sooner, I promise!!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Band has literally been my life up until now! Yes, after this weekend, the Marching of Band will be over until next year! ...Now my feet can go back to normal walking...ANYWAYS, why am I telling you this you ask? WELL, now since it's over for the year, I will have more time to do things. Like writing new chapters. Yeah, see where I'm going? Well, thank you all SO MUCH for reviewing! It helps me keep on track, and also it keeps my writing in check, too! Enjoy thw chapter, it's kinda short, but the one that is being written as we speak needed to begin with the old ending of this...yeah. Complicated much?**

**DISCLAIMER: Phantom is not my own... T-T **

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Part Fourteen: 

A few days after the realization of Thomas's mother going around playing as a Gypsy fortune teller for reasons unknown just yet, Richard came in as promised early in the morning of a Thursday. Erik, now thoroughly tired of all the guests, refused to come out and greet his companion and promptly shut himself up in his room forbidding anyone, even Lark, to enter while he slept.

"Unless someone I care immeasurably about is dying," he had said coolly, "don't disturb me."

With that, the door was slammed and a few odd creaking noises hinted that he might have moved the wardrobe in front of his door, preventing entrance. Lark had, thus, waited by the door outside alone, ears perked for the sound of the Bair carriage. She did not have to wait long for the familiar creak of an iron step for it came not much later after she had sat down.

"There she is!" Richard's voice cried out, the characteristically wide smile on his face. "The lovely lady of the house, standing there in all her glory."

"Rich!" Lark laughed, jumping enthusiastically to her feet. "That was fast!"

Even though she felt very fragile in her personal darkness, there was a lightened joy she felt when she felt the strong arms of her friend wrap around her. Also, a thrill of fear and excitement as her feet left the ground as Richard twirled her around before settling her back down.

"Where's Rachel?" Lark asked breathlessly.

Fingers smoothed back her hair gently.

"She is very busy," he explained sadly, "but she sends you her deepest apologies."

He paused and looked into the girl's morose face.

"She also sends her love, through Richard mail." He joked, and leaned down to kiss her cheek suddenly.

Just as he wanted, Lark giggled and grinned again, her cheeks flushing a healthy pink.

"Oh, it's _so_ good to hear you again!" she exclaimed, hugging him tightly once more. "I have a lot to tell you!"

Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed his hands and pulled him towards the house hoping she remembered where the door frame was.

"Much has happened with us as well," Richard said, tugging her away from running headlong into the door.

There was less trouble of that sort when they came inside the darkened house. Lark, remembering Thomas's discomfort in such dark areas, went off into the kitchen in search of candles though she forgot if they would have any matches anyways. Richard, who had mildly watched her leave, walked slowly around the divan and sat down. He could only guess that Erik was off in his own room.

Richard would not blame Erik if he never saw him as he visited, they had seen each other so often it was not needed to say hello. Lark didn't mind nor notice her guardian's absence from the visit; she was so pleased in having her friend over.

"Sorry, I don't have matches….or at least I haven't a clue where we would keep some." Lark came in, holding a candle bracket filled with unlit candles. She walked carefully around, feeling for the low coffee table before setting the brass down. Richard watched her as she made her way to the couch. He put out a hand to let her know where he was. Lark's hand bumped into his as she did a quick scan of the couch.

"Thank you," she said, sitting next to him. "You do not know how difficult it can be just to prevent myself from accidentally sitting on someone!"

For once, Richard was grateful of Lark's blindness as a blush spread across his face.

"Have you been eating lately?" He asked her, turning in his seat to face her.

"Every day!" she replied cheerfully, "Never miss a meal…..or not often." She added, noticing Richard's muteness.

"Good….good…."

He seemed to have run out of things to say. Thankfully, Lark begun to chatter away about pointless things, giving him time to look her over. She smiled often while she talked, her once beautiful eyes closed, and she used her hands more often to explain what she said. Mussed up as usual, her hair was clumsily pulled back in a ribbon and her dress was completely wrinkled. Richard studied her open, relaxed face and his eyes noticed the graceful curve of her neck as she tilted it. How much more could she grow? She was such like a woman. Suddenly the young woman turned her head in his direction, though her eyes completely missed his face.

"I look like a wreck, don't I?" she grinned gently.

He started.

"Not too much," he answered truthfully, catching what she had said. "Just a comfortable silence persisted with only the sound of Lark's dress swishing and Richard's shifting on the divan. It was her who broke the silence first.

"Can you help me look decent, then?" she asked him, begging unfairly with her glassy eyes. She leaned towards him for emphasis; it worked wonders doing puppy-dog eyes on Erik so why not her friend? She turned her face more towards the spot she last heard his voice. It wouldn't work nearly as well if she missed entirely by staring at the wall.

Richard swallowed hard and a shiver went down his spine as he leaned away. What was wrong with him? He stared back into her eyes hopelessly as they bored into his. It was the first time in many weeks that her fogged eyes had actually captured his own. A perfect eye contact stare. If it wasn't for the fogginess of her eyes, she would've looked like she used to when her vision was not gone.

"Of course…" he faltered, "but what would you have me do?" He attempted to regain his regular composure by being silly. "Surely not being your wardrobe manager or hair dresser."

Lark smiled with a familiar wicked gleam in it.

"Actually, that is exactly what I want you to be!"

Richard stared until the words clunked into place inside his brain.

"….What?"

* * *

**Sometimes I feel sorry for guys a LOT. xD**

**Erik: ...Just review so she'll shut up and work.**


	15. Chapter 15

**ARGH! You won't believe what happened….I almost posted the 16****th**** and not the 15****th****! Ah well….this just means you all get TWO new chapters! At once! WOO!**

**DISCLAIMER: ****Don't own Phantom, but that doesn't mean I can't steal it. Mwahahaha.

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**

**Part Fifteen: **

Lark had successfully pulled Richard into her room and now had him going through her wardrobe for something nicer to wear. Her current dress, although nice, was worn and rather old.

"There are a lot of dresses I can't wear because of buttons or laces," Lark explained, bouncing happily on her bed.

Richard only grumbled something incoherent. This would be so much more enjoyable if she could see Richard's awkwardness through it all. It was quite a surprise really that he succumbed so quickly. She usually found him very stubborn, especially for her requests and scatter-brained ideas. She should use her puppy-dog eyes more often…

"Am I to be informed of something here or are you just toying with me?" Richard grumbled. "What am I looking for in here?"

"Well, you're a male, find something pretty!" she said, shrugging. "I do not remember all my dresses anymore…"

She could hear him muttering darkly to himself before she felt something soft hit her square in the face. Quickly, she scanned it with her fingers. A dress.

"There," Richard said grumpily, "I found something."

She ignored his sarcastic voice and felt the ribbons and laces on it. Lark had an idea of which dress it was but it was still so foggy in her mind's eye.

"What does it look like?" she asked him curiously, holding it up.

"A tent, you're holding it upside down."

Lark rolled her eyes and tried to right it, failing miserably.

"Alright, I'll try to imagine it….Rich?"

"What."

"Can you help me get it on?"

A sputtering and coughing came from him as Richard's face contorted with a mixed range of emotions.

"NO!" he finally shouted out. "Absolutely not!"

"Aw, I only need you to tie the ribbons, Rich! In the back of it! Nothing else!" Lark said, looking hurt. "You don't have to yell, either. I'm blind, not deaf."

Richard turned away from her, face burning. How could she ask something like that as if it were nothing unusual? And to ask him….he groaned. She pressed his nerves way too often. Taking in a deep breath with a quick prayer for patience he turned to her confused and injured face.

"Fine, I can tie the ribbons," he sighed, "but nothing else!"

She smiled gleefully, hers so much like his own with the width but hers somehow sweeter to look at. It fit her well.

"Hurrah!" she cried out, flopping off the bed, tripping over the dress on her way to the corner of her room.

Richard watched her curiously as she placed the dress down on the floor beside her, and gave an embarrassed cry as she started to take off her dress.

"Can you wait until I'm out of the room!?" He yelled, turning swiftly around.

"Oops…" Lark paused in her undressing. "Sorry, Richard…"

She listened meekly as he stamped out of the room. Back when her family was alive, besides her poor father, she had shared her room with her older brothers. They took care of her since her mother was rather indisposed of doing so properly. No one cared if she changed right in front of them, she was so young anyways. Back then she didn't even know how to button herself up properly, her brothers had taken care of it always. Now with Richard, whom she had felt was like an older brother to her as well, Lark had changed comfortably, unknown that it would have mattered to him. She could only guess what his face looked like. An unconscious grin split her face and she pulled off the rest of her old dress, donning the new one.

"Alright, I'm decent, Rich!" she called, hoping she was enough for him. He'd never trust her again if she wasn't.

"You'd better be," he threatened, coming back in the room.

He took in a sharp breath as she glanced her way. She was covered of course, but it was the dress that suited her so well. With the way the sun hit her, she looked like one of heaven's own angels. All she needed was silvery wings.

"I-I see what you mean about the ribbons." He said finally.

Lark nodded and made a face, turning her back to him for him to tie up.

"I really like these dresses," she said as he fumbled with the ties, "But I couldn't wear them because I couldn't tie them myself. It's a disaster if I try."

Richard agreed. He tried to concentrate on the silky smooth ribbons then on the gentle curves the dress accented on Lark. Truly she looked lovely….He jumped and gave himself a mental slap on both cheeks. He felt sickened with himself, and hurriedly tied them all, turning her to face him.

"There," he said in a falsetto cheerful voice, "now you look splendid!"

His fake tones did not deceive her as he had wanted it to. Instead, her face creased and she reached instinctively for his face but her fingers met only air.

"What's wrong, Rich?" she asked worriedly, looking up beyond his shoulder. "You sound…odd."

"Nothing's wrong," he lied persuasively, "you sound odd all the time!"

He tweaked her nose and gave a small smile. Lark smiled hesitantly then walked over to her desk, picking up something and pushing it into his hands.

"Now you get to brush my hair, hairdresser!"

He rolled his eyes as she sat down at her seat, waiting.

"Oh joy," he muttered, "this will be the highlight of my visit. Lark and I played dress-up!"

Lark shook her head as Richard snorted and ran the brush through her hair.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Erik came out for dinner only at the whim of Lark and the fact that he had run out of wine from the bottle he had taken into his room once locked up. Lark, after Richard's help, looked quite pretty indeed. Had she closed her eyes, she would look so much as a normal young hostess than a blind little girl who couldn't dress herself properly. There wasn't much that could be put out at the table, for Rachel was the only one who could cook besides Lark. She had to tell Richard what to do as she could not help him yet.

"I'm trying to learn how to do things without sight." She explained to him while practicing cutting with a fork so not to harm herself. "Normally, I would have tried dressing up by myself but…."

"You weren't ready…?" He had guessed.

"I was lazy."

"You're horrible."

"I know." she grinned.

Now sitting at the table, there seemed to be less of conversation than normal. Lark was concentrating hard on the technique for eating Rachel taught her by grabbing things at will. She still missed occasionally and with every miss, huff like her failure caused her personal insult. Erik was constantly rubbing his temples, his half empty glass of wine perched easily within his grasp. It seemed probable that he had a headache….or was intoxicated. Either way, he acted mostly the same except a little bit more moody. Richard, who was the most discomforted, glanced back and forth between them. He didn't dare try to make small talk. What was there to talk about?

He contented himself to watching Lark as she grabbed out at things. It was hard to tell what went through her mind she face was so closed. Only when a wicked gleam came into her eyes after Erik set his glass back down –he had taken a sip- did he see the Lark he remembered. She reminded him strongly of an imp or another mischievous creature. Slowly, her hand started to reach across the table, but before it seized the wine bottle, Erik's hand caught her wrist, his head still down.

"Don't even think about it," he muttered darkly.

She pulled her hand away and pouted. Richard hid a smile. Erik took this time to stretch out his long arms, yawning slightly and turned his gold eyes on his companion.

"I take it your sibling is busy with something?" he asked offhandedly. "It isn't quite like her to avoid a visit."

Lark looked up and, had she been a cat, her ears would've been perked straight up to listen.

"Yes…I would suppose so." Richard said, equally offhanded. "She's been acting very odd these days. Keeps locking herself up."

"Sounds familiar." Lark muttered.

Erik sent a glare down the table at her but other than that, successfully ignored her.

"The painting?" he asked mildly.

Richard shrugged.

"It's possible…she's crazy but not enough to actually do anything completely stupid. That's how I could leave without worrying."

They remained silent except for Lark, who now seemed determined to get Erik's wine bottle. Each time she had it close to her fingers he would suddenly shift it somewhere else. This continued until she was close to throwing herself over the table to seize it did Erik let her have it. After he had drained it of course.

She took it in her hands and after shaking it experimentally, made a face.

"Erik!"

"Yes?"

"That was a- that was a-…"

"Full bottle?"

"Yes! And you-!"

"Drained it, yes."

She made a frustrated noise and rolled it angrily in his direction. He caught it with ease, though looked at her skeptically.

"You have to take better care of yourself, Erik!" she said, nearly in tears. "You won't be here for very long if you keep this up!"

She stood up knocking her chair over, and stomped out to her own room. Erik and Richard stared after her, both wincing as she slammed her door. Richard looked at his masked friend who still stared after her, then sighed.

"She may be right," he said slowly, "But I haven't seen her over-react that way. Normally she never mentions my health…"

"She's worried."

Erik looked off towards her room with sad eyes.

"….yes." he murmured. "Too much."

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**Ha! While I was checking this, I added more! Just shows you a writer's work is never finished!**

**Erik: She means review and she'll do better. Hopefully.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Thanks for all the reviews, faithful readers! They make me laugh, they encourage me, and they give me great ideas for future chapters! Also, the tips for better writing are more than welcome! Anyways, biggy coming your way! I didn't want to cut it short soooo, it's nearly 2,000 words! I hope you all are enjoying yourselves!**

**I'm sorry that these chapters seem pointless and start to lag. I am going all out now, no more filler chapters! So, I apologize, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**DISCLAIMER: I...I ...-brakes down- OKAY! OKAY! I DON'T OWN PHANTOM!! -runs away sobbing- WHY DO YOU BRING IT UP??? T-T **

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Part Sixteen: 

The next morning was very quiet, not even the birds outside were singing yet. The air was cool but later it would turn warm and awaken the flowers that scattered throughout the country scenting the air with their gentle fragrance. Richard had slept in the guest room that night and throughout the house it was also silent and peaceful. Nothing creaked and the small stud of a candle still burned on the kitchen table, the flame threatening to drown in its own hot puddle of wax. Erik had forgotten to go to his own room and had fallen asleep on the divan were he had collapsed last night, exhausted. Neither of them knew what was happening just a few rooms away from them.

"Oh my gosh, Oh my gosh, oh my gosh…" Lark lay stunned and trembling in her bed, covers thrown off her. They were lying in a pile near the door. Dark red stains blotched over some of them and even more stains were found on her mattress and her nightgown.

"I'm dying!" she whispered, her eyes wide with panic. "I must be dying…!"

Early that morning she had found that she was coated in blood. She didn't need her sight to know what it was. She had smelt and touched blood before in the past to know it was that that stained her.

"How can I be dying?" she mumbled, still trembling. "What could've happened?"

She didn't dare to call for Erik or Richard, or perhaps she had forgotten they were there in the house with her. All she knew is that the bleeding wasn't stopping and it was coming from one place she never would have guessed.

"Have I been stabbed??" she half whispered half screamed to herself. "No…Erik can't see! He mustn't!"

As if propelled by some other force she glided from her bed like a ghost, her face pale enough to be mistaken for one had she been seen by someone else. But it was when she reached the open door when she felt the blood trickle down her legs…… and that was when she started to scream.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Gentle eyes…beautiful hair…Christine. Could it be a dream? Erik hoped not as he watched her dance. He tried to reach out to her but suddenly she was whisked away. He followed her, alarmed at the shadow who took her. She reached for him, calling his name. He reached, finding that he'd be able to touch her if he just…..he was jerked violently awake as a bloodcurdling scream echoed throughout the house. It didn't stop either, but went on and on as though the screamer couldn't stop.

"Lark!" Erik yelled, up in a flash.

As he ran to her door, he found Richard there as well, pale as death. The cries of terror came from inside the girl's room. Richard was already rattling the door handle before Erik could take in what was happening. By looking at the young man's furious, pale face the door could only be locked.

"Open the door, Lark!" Erik demanded, glaring at Richard for some explanation. He could only shrug helplessly.

"N-No! I can't! I can't!" she wailed from inside. "I'm dying!"

"No you're not," Richard said patiently, trying the door again. "Just open the door!"

There was only whimpering to be heard on her side.

"Damn it, open up _now_!" Erik yelled, pounding once on the door.

She didn't respond but it seemed that she had moved away from the door. Suddenly a door was creaked open, and it was not Lark's.

"Can no one open a door anymore?" a woman's irritated voice came through and walked towards them.

"Rachel!" her brother gasped. "I thought you were staying at home-..."

Erik interrupted. "Never mind how!" he snapped angrily. He turned to the tall woman with equal irritation. "Normally, we do answer the door but as you can see Lark has locked herself up in her room."

Rachel's eye brows rose with surprise as she crossed her arms.

"Are you two that hard to live with?"

He snarled at her alarmingly but she never batted an eye. Furious at the sudden turn of the day, Erik stalked towards her and seized her arm. She started but his grip was gentle even though he was infuriated. Richard watched carefully but his sister nodded and he resumed trying to call for Lark through the lock in vain. Rachel turned her sapphire eyes on Erik who glowered at her through the mask, his own gold eyes dancing.

"Get her out of that room and see what is wrong," Erik growled through gritted teeth, pushing her forward.

She nodded and started to push her own brother away, scolding him as he started to protest.

"She obviously hasn't responded to you, so let me try, Richard." She coaxed gently.

He scowled at her and followed Erik as he left towards the parlor. With both men gone, Rachel knelt by the door and called for Lark softly through the keyhole.

"I'm here Lark," she said, "What's wrong…?"

"Rachel!" the young woman said tearfully from inside the room. "I….I have…a problem."

"Problem? Tell me, dear."

Lark proceeded to tell her female companion all that happened that morning and what she had found. Rachel, being a woman, knew exactly what happened and hastened to tell her it was quite normal and that she was not dying. Luckily she was able to convince Lark to open the door for her, assuring that neither her brother nor Erik were around.

She found the girl sitting in a frightened, blood-smudged heap, her hair a wreck from being torn at and her face dazed. She was still quivering but she was calmer than she was before.

"It's normal for all of us," Rachel explained, helping her up. "I'm glad I'm the one who showed up. I know Richard hasn't a clue about these sorts of things, but Erik…it's possible he would have known though I would have preferred another woman explaining it to you."

She mused more to herself as she got Lark cleaned up in the bathroom, further explaining the process of her menstrual cycle and how to take care of it.

"I thought I was dying," Lark later confessed, shamefaced to her as they put clean sheets on the bed. Rachel had gotten rid of the stained ones. The men she instructed to stay in the kitchen so they would be out of the way and to keep the younger woman's dignity undamaged by their quizzical stares. She fixed Lark with one and gently asked if perhaps her mother ever mentioned it. The answer was a calm negative, though the young girl's smile was sad. She didn't mention her mother again.

O-o-o-o-o-o

Rachel forbad Erik or her brother to ask Lark what had happened, telling them that everything was finally over with and it would make no sense in dwindling in the past. Erik consented surprisingly enough, at ease with the thought of that everything was fine. Richard was less easy to succumb into letting it go but his older sister did well in ignoring his sharp questions. Lark had happily forgotten the past events and carried on as normal, though she would sometimes stop in pain or would be sometimes moody. Another thing Rachel told her was normal.

It was later in the evening when everything was all settled and all adults were sitting in the parlor. All the windows were thrown open to tempt the light breeze in the heat of the night; to hopefully cool off the warm air inside. Lark had gone to bed early. Richard sat in an armchair closest to the light, reading a book while Erik and Rachel sat on the divan. Erik was the farthest from her and the light as possible, the latter so that no passing person could glimpse his ominous figure and mask from the outside. They had been silent for quite a while though it was a comfortable silence. Erik broke the silence casually.

"I did not think you would come, mademoiselle." He observed. "Your brother said you had been working…"

She looked at him for a moment, and then nodded reluctantly.

"I decided to give up for awhile," she said, her voice ringing falsely cheerful. "It has been tiring to stare at an incomplete canvas all day."

She shifted uncomfortably as Erik's eyes bore into hers but almost sighed with relief as he released her.

"I suppose I should be thankful for that," he said looking away, "I do not think we would have gotten Lark to come out if had not come." His eyes darkened as he muttered under his breath, not meaning for what he spoke next to be heard. "I would have bashed the door down had I needed to…"

Richard glanced up once at their conversation but returned to his book, oblivious. An owl outside hooted dolefully, possibly unhappy with the new temperatures of the night. Erik turned his head to stare out the window, ignoring all other things. Grateful for his piercing gaze off of her, Rachel was free to let her eyes scan over him sadly.

She knew that, once, Lark had seen him without that mask on. The young girl probably saw him quite often and must have memorized his face. Rachel loved her as a little sister but she could not repress the feelings of jealousy that coursed through her veins. Erik trusted Lark more than anything else! Was it wrong for her to want that for herself as well? Every time that Lark hugged him, or spoke to him Rachel wanted to burst out: "I'm jealous!" But she always held her tongue and put on a smile. No one knew the burning inside her. No one knew how much she envied their relationship. Every day was a struggle, every conversation was painful, every moment she wanted to steal from Lark for her own tortured her mind.

_I want to be trusted_, she thought miserably, _I want to be closer. To him. _Perhaps she would never be…Rachel's nightmares seemed to contain more and more covered faces, masks, and creatures that sneered at her and jested, boasting that she was too insignificant to know who they were. And she knew it. Even though Rachel constantly lied to the faces that she could, there was the fear that she may not be able to. But still…. _I want to see his face_, she stared hard at the material that hid Erik from the world, _I want to be another who can accept him no matter what he may look like…but how? How will I get closer? How do I get him to trust me…_She pondered on what she could say to him, to convince him. What would be the key to unlock the secrets?

"Mademoiselle?" Erik queried looking back at her, his head cocked to the side. "Is there something wrong?"

A blush burned across her cheeks and she quickly looked away. She had been staring at him with more intensity than a cat with a mouse hole.

"Nothing," she lied, still blushing. "I got lost in thought."

She got up suddenly, startling both of the men. Turning to each of them in turn, Rachel gave them a hasty good night before heading down the hall. She was only part ways away when she found herself sneaking a look over her shoulder to stare at him. There was something majestic about the way he held himself. Like a king on his throne…

"I want to see you," she whispered longingly. "Oh, Erik, if only you knew how much I want to _see_ your true face!"

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**Reviews! Are! Life!**

**Erik: You! Are! An! Idiot!**

**Ouch...**


	17. Chapter 17

**Thanks everyone for the reviews, tips, and suggestions! Believe me, they are all put to mind. Tempting some of them are, too! xD Hope you all think the chapters are better now that they're picking up more. (I think) Hopefully, I'll be able to update plenty before we go off Wednesday for Thanksgiving. We'll be gone till Sunday so...Let's get those chapters rolling, eh?**

**DISCLAIMER: Phantom isn't yours. **

**And isn't mine either. HAPPY!? **

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Part Seventeen: 

"Have you ever been swimming, Lark?" Thomas asked her smiling one day. It was nearly noon and both he and Lark had gone for a walk beyond her home's boundary. Thomas had asked Erik specially if it would be alright for him to take her down to the creek he knew and had gone to before. Erik, tired of seeing them around with their endless noisy chatter agreed willingly enough though he had fixed the boy with a glare that clearly said to all: 'You had better take care of her or you will be in deep trouble, indeed.'

Rachel was sleeping in, tired from her journey while her brother had made himself comfortable in the armchair, book at hand. He had also given a glare to Thomas as he helped Lark past him but he kept his lips sealed and said nothing to them. He seemed to have much on his mind to be troubled with other things.

Escaping from the house with the death glares behind them, Thomas and Lark were the very image of ecstasy. She kept her eyes closed to shield them from the sun's bright rays and her hand rested on Thomas' arm to keep her on track and to keep her from falling.

"I've watched people swim before, but I never did." She confessed to his inquiry. "You know how to?"

They climbed over a short, crumbling rock wall, Thomas picking Lark up to get her over.

"Yes," he nodded, "I come down to this creek all the time to swim! The water is nice and cold, perfect for swimming."

She only nodded and they continued on their way, making little chitchat but still enjoying each other's company. They were getting close to the creek, Lark could hear the river splashing and prattling along its incoherent way down to where ever it led.

"Here, feel the water." Thomas encouraged, leading her to the bank.

Cautiously Lark slipped her fingers out in the darkness, and jumped slightly as her hand was quickly soaked in cool fresh water. Thomas laughed at her surprise and pulled her back again, she assumed, from the bank.

"It is cool enough," she agreed, laughing nervously shrinking against Thomas. She didn't want to admit it to him, but all the rushing water frightened her. It was by this type of power that she lost one of her brothers long ago. He sensed her tension and peered into her nervous face.

"You don't like to be near the water." It was not put in question form.

She laughed weakly and shook her head.

"I never liked rushing water in the first place," she admitted shamefaced, "but it seems that…that I dislike it more since I cannot see it, either."

He studied her for only a minute before settling her down on a log near the water. For her comfort, he cupped her hands in his, threading his fingers between hers.

He had found out a few days ago that Lark sought the most comfort by finding something to hold onto. Holding her hand or letting her hang onto his arm always made her more comfortable, especially if he was showing her around new places that she would not be able to 'memorize.' Now, she was able to give Thomas a normal smile but her head still tilted worriedly towards the sound of the hastening water.

"Lark," he started hesitantly.

She smiled encouragingly though she knew not for. He continued a bit more strongly. "Lark, maybe it would be better if…you learned to swim. That way-" He added hurriedly as she cried out, "you wouldn't have to be frightened! You would be alright if you ever fell in!"

Her hands gripping his tightly but her face remained passive.

"Or I could just avoid the water the rest of my life," she said, smiling gently. "Please, I would rather...not. For my own reasons."

Thomas stared up into her face then nodded, giving his consent. He looked across at the water again, feeling sad that she wouldn't be able to enjoy it.

"I won't force you," he started, "but would you like to at least say goodbye to it? The rest of your life is a long time, you know."

She laughed at that, her whole face lighting up.

"I…suppose I could," she agreed, but she still had that worried look in her eyes.

"Come on," he pulled her to her feet, "I will make sure you don't fall in."

With ease, the young ones made their way to the side of the bank again, the water barely brushing against their shoes. Lark kneeled carefully, feeling for rocks first with her hand, and then paddled her hand in the water.

"Careful," Thomas warned, feeling safe enough to go back a few steps. "I'm going to go get some good rocks to skip. The water's calmer upstream for that sort of thing. Have you ever tried skipping rocks?"

Lark looked excited, keeping her hands in the water. Her brothers used to skip rocks. Her eldest brother was the best, once getting at least twelve skips in good conditions.

"Can you teach me that?" she asked, "I had seen others do that, but I never learned myself."

"Of course I can!" Thomas said, beaming, "Wait here, okay? I'll find some good ones for us to practice with. You can still skip rocks without seeing them, right?"

Lark thought about it for a moment and then nodded encouragingly, smiling.

"I can do anything I want if I put my mind to it."

"Great!" Thomas enthused, "be back in a moment!"

She heard the small pebbles beneath his feet crunch loudly as he made his way farther upstream in his quest for the perfect rocks. Lark amused herself by burying her hands in the thick, warm mud at the bottom of the pond, letting it mush between her fingers. She didn't mind getting wet, and she didn't mind water by itself. It was the current that scared her and kept her far away normally. The water claimed a life. She didn't want to give it another chance. But perhaps it would be safe now. Thomas said it was safe, and the current was slow itself as it was sluggish upstream as well. Perfectly safe.

Her poking and burying became bolder and she had unconsciously moved deeper and deeper in the water until she was knee-deep in the clear coolness, sinking her arms deep in the silt. Larger rocks met her fingers and her dress was almost thoroughly soaked. It wasn't very heavy since it was a summer gown, barely more than a shift and petticoat. Water flicked on her face as her fingers picked up a large handful of mud. She hummed as she sifted through it, wondering if there were any oddly shaped rocks she could keep. Then something caught onto her last finger, round and smooth. Excitement flushed her cheeks but she felt it rip away from her with a sudden lash of water. Without a moment's thought Lark threw herself forward in hope to catch it before it disappeared. But, instead of her catching the object, it was the current that swept her up into its deadly hold.

She barely had time to gasp for air as it pushed her down under the dark, merciless water.

* * *

**Review! So Erik doesn't hurt me! ...Why you ask? Well...let's keep it between you and me...**

**Erik: --from far away-- HALEY!!**

**Uh oh...um, nevermind. Gotta go run away before I get- GAK! --punjabbed-- xP**

**Erik: Dx --mask is glowing from Glow-in-the-dark paint--**


	18. Chapter 18

**Yaaaay! So many reviews in so little of time! Thanks! They're a real pleasure for me to read! You deserve the next chapter:D**

**DISCLAIMER: Do you need this all the time?? Why cause me so much pain??? T-T **

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Part Eighteen:

"No! No, no!" Lark shrieked as she struggled, panicked in the now cold and unfeeling waters. She couldn't swim! She choked as water rushed into her open mouth, she tried to cough but there was only more water to hastily replace it. It shoved her underneath and she scrapped along the bottom. The creek was deeper, faster than it looked. More deadly than Lark would have ever expected. It jerked, it smashed, but most frighteningly above all, it carried her farther down stream, deeper and deeper in the watery grave. _I'll die! _She thought, panicked. _I'll die if I don't get up! _With all her strength she heaved herself upright, a small sign of hope in her, but then was quickly knocked off her feet again. The rush was terrible, it seemed like the water was fighting over her body. Lark managed to thrust her head above the current as it lashed about her in some violent frenzy.

"THOMAS-!" she screamed before she waters enveloped her underneath it once again, smothering her.

Not far off, Thomas had been studying some rocks, deciding if they were any good. He heard something in the distance, but was so absorbed in his task he didn't look up until he heard his name being screamed. His head shot up, a chill descending on him. It was Lark's voice. He stood abruptly and scanned the shore for any sign of her; there was none to be found.

"Oh God," he breathed, feeling faint. "Please let her be alright…"

Another scan. Again, nothing. Suddenly a faint cry was heard across the water, farther down where the current was strongest. He felt all air leave his lungs. A hand clawed at the air before being submerged in water. Thomas heard himself scream her name, his legs running before he knew what was happening. _Oh God, not her._ He found himself thinking desperately as he quickly jumped into the water. _Please, please, not her! Anyone else…! _A blacksmith's son, a man, and a decent swimmer he made strong, powerful strokes to get him down the river faster. He saw her panicked face resurface but before she could swallow the air, she went down again.

"Hold on!" he yelled over the noise of the current.

He didn't know if she heard him, but that didn't matter. All that did was that he would reach her before Death's cold, firm grip did. He swam savagely, resting only to let the stronger current take him quickly now and then. He would not surrender Lark before Death! Not now! She got closer but as he reached for her, the waters would snatch her away farther making him swear violently. Due to his frustration, he accidentally allowed himself to be dragged under, water filling his mouth. _Calm down!_ He reminded himself, spitting the cold liquid out, _you can't reach her if you struggle as well! _At once he maintained his strokes, letting the water do most of the work to carry him afar. Finally, he was able to seize her clammy wrist, wrapping her arms around him. She was barely conscious to tighten her grip around his neck before he set off not as strongly towards the shore.

It was slow, and the water tore at them both threateningly but Thomas maintained his strong, even strokes to reach the banks. Lark's head lolled off to the side, she was either passed out or…. _No! She's fine._ He told himself firmly, dragging her up to the safety of dry land. The sun mocked them with its sunny, carefree shine across the land. He hadn't realized that tears were pouring down his face as he straightened her limp body out across his sodden lap. She was so cold when he touched her hand.

"Lark!" he called frantically, "Lark, can you hear me?"

Thomas shook her but it only made her flop around with the jerky movement. He got up, paced for about a second before leaning by her side, pressing his ear to her chest. Her heart beat was, thankfully, still there but it was alarmingly weak. He knew if she didn't get the water out of her lungs, she would literally drown before him, on dry land!

There was a way of reviving a person in such a way; midwives used it to newborns if they hadn't breathed soon enough. Thomas looked at Lark's still figure nervously. He had never had to try it himself, but there was a chance that it would save her. _And I am not going to lose her!_ He fumed silently. Taking a deep breath, he opened her mouth and pressed his own to hers, blowing in all the air he had. Quickly he sat up and pushed gently, but firmly on her stomach.

"Come on," he growled, as he repeated the same procedure. "Don't you dare die on me!"

It seemed like it wouldn't work at all and Thomas felt the icy fear that she might not make it. But that day was not to be Lark's last. After what seemed like a century and a half, Lark gasped, sputtered, and coughed up about a pint of water from her lungs. She thrashed around as though she was still in the water but soon her hands felt the dry sand and Thomas kneeling beside her. He stared at her, jaw agape but then picked her up joyfully, eyes watering with grateful tears.

"Thank God!" he gasped, hugging her tight. "You're alive!"

"T-Thomas!" she coughed helplessly, barely able to lift her arms. "You came for me-!"

She gasped as he crumpled to the ground, still holding her protectively in his arms. He seemed so weak from the effort but he wouldn't let her go.

"Thomas?" she asked hysterically. Ah, for sight! "What's wrong??"

He surprised her by laughing, the relief in his voice was tangible.

"You're alive! I was so…worried! Yet you're alive! Thank God, you're alright!"

Still laughing he squeezed her tight, making his and her sore muscles ache. He then pulled away carefully, cradling her head between his hands. She was trembling still and she was soaked to the bone. He watched her as her face wrinkled with effort and she reached out and hugged him as tight as her physique would allow.

"T-thank you," she sobbed suddenly, tears back, "I'm s-so happy I-I was with you! I know…I would have drowned."

She looked up, hopefully into his face, her own glassy eyes spilling over tears.

"But you were right there!"

Thomas smiled gently, the panic of the day gone. They still were frightened of what would have just happened had he not been there or heard her cries, but now it was only relief that they were both okay. Still alive together, with the sun still shining its warm rays on them. He wiped away Lark's tears with his hands and drew her closer.

"Can you walk…?" he asked gently.

She shook her head sadly side to side.

"Let's rest. I need to…get my energy back."

"Me too."

Lark suddenly smiled and her fingers reached for his face. Startled but still used to helping her he helped guide her hands until they touched his skin. Now it was she who cradled his face in her hands. She ran a hand on his cheek, as if she were checking it was still there and she leaned down and kissed him there.

"I need to thank my rescuer properly as well," she whispered, drawing back with a blush.

He was frozen like a statue, but then a wide smile split his face. For once, he was very pleased that Lark couldn't see him blush.

"Thanks," he said, hugging her once more before releasing her. "Let's get you back home."

* * *

**It's almost like Jaws. You're afraid to get attacked, people say you'll be fine. You try it out. BOOM, you got this huge thing stuck fast on your left ankle with teeth! **

**Erik: If you understood a word of that, let me know. I want to congradulate you.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hope everyone's enjoying the story! I think it's getting better myself! I had a great Thanksgiving and I hope you all did, too! It'll be nice to go to bed tonight knowing I was able to give you guys an update before passing out:D Thanks, also, for all your reviews! Here's your chapter!**

**DISCLAIMER: Me no owning of Phantom. Me total misery. Leroux lucky he's dead so that I can't force him to give me Phantom **

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Part Nineteen:

"_WHAT_!?" Erik was on his feet in an instant, his hands reaching for the startled and frightened boy's throat.

"Erik, no!" Rachel cut in front of him, shielding Thomas from view before Erik could wrap his hands around the young man's neck. It wasn't the smartest thing of him to go around telling Erik himself what happened down by the creek but he had felt that it needed to be done against Lark's protestations. Why didn't he listen to her? Thomas himself knew that he was in deeper trouble than he would have realized as he watched with horror as the masked man's eyes glowed a fiery gold, bony hands extended, determined to end his insignificant life. He swallowed; this maniac was after him! He took a quick step to the side, but the long arms still followed. For his safety against Lark's wild guardian, Thomas took refuge behind the tall woman. They were evenly matched though Erik was still much taller than she was but her confidence with him was remarkable. Later, Thomas would have to thank her that he was still living.

As this was occurring, Richard and Lark were watching/listening the spectacle off to the side, the latter wrapped in a large blanket to dry her. Richard's arms were around her shoulders protectively and he watched as Erik attempted to strangle the boy. Frankly, he would have done it himself but he wanted to get Lark attended to more. Shivers still ran through her small body and he did his best to keep her warm. Normally he would have directed Lark to her room so that she may have changed into dry clothes but her worry for her threatened friend kept her close to Thomas and Erik. Richard was slightly irked that she shrugged his offer off, too worried about the boy more than her own health. He was nothing, that blacksmith's boy was compared to Lark! Why should Thomas captivate Lark's concern when Richard himself attempted to assist her in taking care of herself first!

"Erik!" Rachel's exasperated voice clipped through the air. "Don't harm him! He did the right thing!"

She fended off to her right to capture Erik's clawing hands in her own, gripping on his deceptively fragile, thin wrists. He impatiently tried to sidestep her to the left, relinquishing his hands with a twist. He was too polite to completely throw her out of his way even though he would like nothing better than to end the miserable boy's life right then and there! If only he was back in the habit of carrying around his Punjab lasso…he had hung it up not too long after he and Lark moved here, promising her that he would not harm anyone unless provoked or they were in immediate danger. Erik bared his teeth at Thomas who yelped and ducked under Rachel's arm to escape another near capture. How dare that brat put Lark in danger!

"Move aside," he growled, "I just want to render him immobile."

"Oh, stop it!" she cried out, "you know you would have rather him told you of this then kept it secret! We're all upset that Lark was in danger, but Thomas was a good boy and brought her back to us!"

"Erik," Lark whispered, "Erik, I would have…would have drowned if he wasn't there for me. Please, please don't be angry with him, it was my fault."

She clung to Richard's arm, shivering and hoped that her tearful stare was in Erik's direction. Fortunately it was, but it was not only her expression that made Erik stop and put his arms to his sides again. It was the boy's astonished glance he gave her. Thomas, Erik could read from his face steadily, wasn't expecting her to defend his innocence. He would have taken it all upon himself without thought. With an irritated sigh Erik glared at Rachel, at Thomas, then finally at Lark.

"Fine. He'll live," he said acidly, "I cannot say that I am not thankful that Lark is alive because of him. Spare me that look of relief, boy! You are not out of my book yet! Out you go!"

With a final glare at everyone else in the room to see if they dared to defy him, he pointed one long finger to the door. Thomas meekly bowed muttering a thank you for not killing him and almost fled out of the house, shouting a hasty _bonsoir _to Lark over his shoulder. Erik allowed the silence to persist before telling Richard coolly to get Lark off to bed and Rachel to get her into dry clothes.

"Where will you be, Erik?" Rachel asked as she helped her brother escort the tired girl to her room.

"The kitchen for now," he replied with a hint of weariness in his tone.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It was later in the evening that Erik and Rachel were in the kitchen, sitting across from one another at the table in utter silence while Richard, equally silent was lounging on the divan in the other room. Lark had been successfully lulled to sleep after a battle that she didn't need sleep with both the Bair siblings. Sitting at the same table with Erik held Rachel both in fascination and sudden fear. Should she start a conversation or would it be better to hold her tongue? She had contented herself with staring at his extravagantly long, rather sensual hands. Never would they be capable in making a hasty or ineloquent movement, sign, or gesture. She also noticed that he didn't have his gloves on. Normally, that would be said to be perfectly normal, but for Erik, who wore his quite often around the household, it was quite a sight for her to behold.

Long, slender, and equally graceful, just he moving his hand in the slightest made her stare with a childish fascination. They were deceptive in making her think that they might be fragile, especially his bony wrists where they seemed to be able to be snapped cleanly in two if she wished it. But there at the wrists she failed to prove such insubstantiality, for both scar tissue and lean, rock-hard muscle proved her theory negative. Almost like a custom, a large wine glass stood before him, half full of the dark, sweet wine she had bought for him. An involuntary smile graced Rachel's gentle features as she remembered his fit over her not supplying him with the wine he 'needed'. Suddenly his dark gold eyes seized hers, making her take in an unnecessary deep breath.

"What are you smiling about?" he said moodily, eyeing her over his glass as he raised it to his lipless mouth cleverly behind his mask.

She blushed and avoided his scorching eyes.

"Nothing…" She unwillingly admitted. "Just remembering some old memories."

She had a bad habit of telling the truth when flustered. He didn't seem remotely aware of her discomfort and suddenly, with hesitant generosity, offered to pour her a glass for her own. Rachel readily agreed for whatever reason and with that grace that left her and anyone else who watched him breathless, Erik got up to fetch another glass.

"You may enjoy this kind," he said serenely, "but I cannot be sure in another's taste in wines."

She nodded numbly, her eyes captured by his elegant, beautiful movements. Captivated enough to the point her mind was blissfully blank, each and every movement he made was unknowingly alluring.

Startled at herself, Rachel shook herself mentally and began concentrating hard on what Erik was speaking to her about. How embarrassing it would be if he noticed her inability to pay attention!

"You haven't touched yours, mademoiselle. Was I right in guessing it is not your taste?" Erik said lightly.

Rachel now was able to note that he was speaking to her, and forced herself to stare into those golden pools behind the mask. She became aware of her full glass of wine sitting sedately in front of her, patiently awaiting her to drink from it.

"Oh! No, no, I like it," she hastened to assure him, taking a rather alarmingly large gulp of the sweet, strong beverage.

He nodded slowly, cocking his head to the side as if to study her character better.

"You hold your liquor well I see." Erik said warningly. "Best take it a bit slowly or you will become intoxicated no matter how well you hold yourself."

She became snappish and told him to mind his own drink and not worry about her own habits.

"I can take care of myself," she told him almost smugly. She could keep pace with him any time!

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**Rival drinking buddy! WHOO HOO!**

**Erik: -headdesk-**


	20. Chapter 20

**Love the comments, keep 'em coming! Tips are always welcome! I want to know if there is anything I can do to make this story better!**

**DISCLAIMER: No ownership Phantom me with no life. So why am I living...? xD **

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Part Twenty:

"You've had quite a lot, mademoiselle," Erik put simply, refilling his own glass. "Are you sure you want to continue? I do not think you have your wits about you."

Rachel huffed and proffered her own glass to which he filled, though not fully. They had drunken, for the moment, the same amount of wine. Their reaction to the liquor was, however, very different from one another. Erik had the most resistance from past drinking and was still in full control of his senses. Rachel was seemingly in full control, but her unfocused gaze and her constant rubbing of her temples let him know otherwise. She ignored his questions and determinedly took a sip of her fresh cup in defiance, her eyes daring him to tell her to quit. Erik smirked, amused at her overconfidence in herself and took a sip out of his own glass.

Rachel felt so lightheaded; she thought that if she opened a window, she would be able to fly. She also felt that she was doing well against Erik, and wondered briefly if he had that same, buzzing feeling in the back of his skull. He suddenly looked startled. Did she ask that out loud?

"I think you've had a bit too much tonight-.." he begun, but stopped as she gently grabbed his hand in her own.

"Did you know that you have beautiful hands?" she murmured, smilingly, her eyes over bright and shining. They really were beautiful, no matter how bony they seemed. Erik's eyes hardened.

"You've definitely had too much wine, mademoiselle."

"But it's true!" she protested, as he attempted to recover her wine glass from her. She caught his outstretched hand in hers and turned it gently over to observe closely. His hand's deathly cold clamminess didn't bother her as she traced the lines with a solitary finger.

"Look," she said softly, "They're so smooth. Graceful, too…A bit cold though…" she peered up into his masked face. "Why is that?"

"I would not know, mademoiselle," Erik said rather agitated, again trying to pull his hand free. He was startled beyond words when she pressed his skeletal hand to her cheek and held it there carefully as though afraid he would pull away. He could feel the heat of her flushed face easily on his fingers and palm. She gazed up at him, her sapphire eyes glimmering. Her face looked so young and pretty, like a young child looking up admiringly into the face of a father or one they loved very much. The natural smile played on her lips as Rachel switched his hand to the other cheek. His teeth clenched together but he remained passive. She had too much wine, far too much.

"I don't see why you wear gloves," she murmured, mostly to herself, sliding his cold hand to her flaming neck. It felt so comforting there, like a wet towel on the fevered forehead of a sick child. "It is like you're hiding your hands like you do your face."

It was too much for Erik to handle and he quickly snapped his hand away, an embarrassed flush coming to his own, hidden face. She looked bothered by his quick removal but seemed unabashed by it as well. He watched her carefully as he slid away, feeling a tad perturbed when she rose slowly.

"Please, don't go," she whispered sadly, "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong…?"

"No, nothing remotely wrong," he answered slowly, "You made me uncomfortable for a moment, that is all."

Erik was horrified to see that it saddened her even more greatly and that a hurt tear slid down her pale cheek.

"I always seem to do that," she remarked ruefully, "Make you uncomfortable."

He didn't know what to do, he didn't want to unnecessarily hurt her, but he didn't want to encourage her strange behavior. In the end, he lifted a finger and lightly brushed away one of her tears.

"Don't cry, please," he murmured, "I wouldn't be able to stand it." As soon as possible, he told himself, he would cart her off to her own room to sleep off the wine. She was becoming much too hard to handle.

He lifted her tear-stained face up towards him, looking sadly into her burning, desperate eyes.

"Will you stop crying, now?" Erik asked gently. It was probably a mistake to do such a thing, but in the moment, who knew what she could've came out with such an innocent comment.

Rachel suddenly blushed and looked down, murmuring something indistinguishable. Erik suddenly became guarded and commanded her to repeat what she had said, fearing the answer. What was the answer he feared, even Erik couldn't tell as she slowly lifted her head to meet his eyes again. Timorously she slid her hands up to the lapels of his suit and gripped them carefully. He became fixed to where he stood, both of them balanced in the intensity of the silence.

"I love you," she whispered. "I love you more than anything, more than life."

He stared at her for the longest time, struck dumb. Time seemed frozen and the moment seemed to stretch beyond forever.

Finally he moistened his throat enough to croak out: "No, you don't."

Rachel's face suddenly tightened with frustration, but she didn't relinquish her hold onto him.

"How would you know what I feel?" she demanded, tears now coursing down her face. "How would you know if I do or not?"

Erik gazed at her steadily, though he would have rather gladly sunk into the ground and never showed his face on earth again. He knew exactly why it was nearly impossible to love such a creature as himself. Lark loved, but only as a daughter. No true woman would look at him with the love of a wife, a spouse who wants to be with him for the rest of their life. Erik looked sadly at this good-natured, yet heavily disillusioned woman before him, the tears still in her eyes. She seemed so determined to prove him wrong, it would hurt to let her know otherwise…

"You haven't seen me." Erik said slowly. "You don't know what a…" he took a rather deep breath to force himself to continue. "…what a monster I am. You have no idea."

Rachel stared at him hard, her face twisting in anger.

"You're not a monster!" she retorted hotly, "I know you're not! You're too good, you're too…"

She stopped as he shook his head back and forth.

"I am." He whispered, suddenly looking helpless. "And that will never change…"

Her face abruptly hardened and softened at the same time and with a swift, uneven movement, gathered Erik in a tight embrace, burying her head in his shoulder.

"I'll prove it's not true!" she cried heroically, clinging to his skeletal frame for both comfort and support. "I'll make sure no one thinks you're a monster!"

Erik stood still as a statue in a graveyard, his emotion gone like the summer's wind. There was no point in trying to convince her that her heroic proposal was impossible, not with the drink in her. He let her embrace him with quiet reserve, preparing to even carry her back to her room if she would let him. When one is intoxicated, there was no telling what a person would do, even an optimistic, gracious woman like Rachel. Fortunately he did not have to go to the extremes for she followed the melodious command of his voice with unquestioning bliss. All he had to do was beckon to her and she would follow, so much like another young woman in his past.

With pained grief, he was barely able to call her to him, drawing her into her own room merely by his voice alone. Had he sung, Erik believed the woman would have become a full zombie, always intoxicated with his angel-like call, ready to do his bidding no matter what it might be. Unfortunately, even his vocalizations couldn't steady her liquor induced body which still wobbled with ungainliness. Erik barely had time to stoop down and catch her as Rachel stumbled and fell heavily into the room. With ease, he strode over to her bed and laid her carefully in it, releasing her quickly. Rachel, still conscious, seemed to have other plans and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"_Mademoiselle_-!" Erik exclaimed with shock, flinching at her warm touch.

Her eyes were still gentle, but they sparkled excitedly. She pulled him down close and caressed his mask lovingly, still sad. Erik seemed to be unable to breathe as he watched her, eyes widened apprehensively. This was too much for him to wrap his mind around!

"Why can't I see, now?" she whispered mournfully, tracing the expressionless mask. "When will I get a chance?"

He swallowed compulsively but managed to grip her wrists and liberate himself, pushing her firmly away and back down on the bed. He withdrew from her side and stood a safe distance back from Rachel, trying to manage his unsteady heart. With effort Erik barely was able to instruct her to stay put on the bed. Her grieved face was nearly intolerable for him.

"Please, please, Erik," she begged softly, "Let me see your face one day. Just once!"

He remained silent but then, equally soft murmured in an assuring manner.

"One day, you might. Not today, though."

She looked satisfied but then as she tried to get up again he quickly added. "But promise me you will get some rest, you need to sleep off that wine. Promise me, mademoiselle."

Like an obedient child, she consented and Erik quickly left the room before his emotions overwhelmed him. Closing the door, he braced himself against the wall for support, his legs turned to jelly. He knew it was only the wine that had affected Rachel into saying she loved him. The wine, and nothing more.

Why, then, did it affect him so?

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**I love wine, though I never get any unless it's my church's communion wine. xD It's very good...**

**Erik: Pathetic, isn't she?**

**Ouch! Am not!**


	21. Chapter 21

**I'm such a horrible writer! I'm so sorry to keep you all waiting and wondering! It must have been maddening... Anyways, here's your next chapter. I had a huge writer's block so it's not the best...but it helped me get on with the next chapter I'm working on!**

**DISCLAIMER: Never owned Phantom, but once I trick Bill Gates to giving me all his money...THEN I will own Phantom 'cause I'll buy him from Leroux! Mwhahahaha! **

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Part Twenty-one:

Not too far off from Lark and Erik's household the next day, another house was just awakening just beyond the village that sat farther from both homes. One would say it was almost comically advantageous if one of the members of each house fell in love. Not too far away but just enough to where it would take one a good walk to get to the other house. The air was still blessed with the coolness of the absent spring but soon the heat of the summer sun would pierce through the meager cloud coverage and bake the earth below it. Early morning was the best time to travel, especially when one is trying to go out unnoticed. For in the Peter household, their only son was getting ready to leave without their consent or even notice. In the household of the Peter's, Thomas crept down the stairway and tiptoed to the door. He had practiced this often and, with luck, he would be at Lark's long before his parents were awake or noticed if they were conscious. With a painfully slow yet cautious air, he slowly extended his hand towards the door handle and….

"Off to that girl's house again?"

Fate was not with him today and his tarot card could all but be The Fool.

Thomas turned slowly around, his hand being inches from his own front door. He cursed his noisiness and his father's awareness of every move he tried to make. Clenching his teeth together he eyed his father square in the eye with the same sort of disapproval and nodded slowly. This was the sixty-third time that his father was going to complain of his seeing Lark! He would know, too. He counted. Now-a-days when this same discussion would arise, Thomas could almost mechanically say answers to his father's same questions. But now he would probably face new ones for he never tried escaping so early in the day and certainly not the morning. He now gazed upon the man who had caught him easily as it was spotting a raging elephant in a small Paris alley.

His father sat there across the hall in the parlor like an emperor on his throne, viewing his sly son with a look of deep disapproval. He was a rather broad, heavy-set man with heavily muscled arms made toned from his blacksmithing and had a large, stout jaw. Dark hair, slightly receding back from his crown was pulled rather untidily out of his face and he had dark, small eyes that seemed to peer out of the caves of his brow. As Thomas gazed at his father, his mother, in all her Gypsy-attired glory, couldn't be more opposite from her husband. With wild, long curly hair and a slight frame, it would have been a simple task for Jacob to crush her skull in his large hands. She sat knitting in an armchair next to a blazing fire; it wasn't cold out, but she insisted on using the fire to cook some putrid smelling herbs. Not one of the men dared to ask what it was for. Last time they questioned the wife's oddities, they found themselves waking up to perhaps different, unnaturally colored hair or no hair at all. Once, Thomas had even woken up with frogs sitting all over him.

It was a silent rule in the household not to question the wife's daily tasks. She now sat calm as you please but glanced up to watch her son and husband go over the usual argument.

"I don't mind him seeing the girl," she remarked pleasantly, unaware of the tension between them. "She sounds like a very kind girl."

Thomas' father only scowled first at his son and then at her.

"She's also useless, blind as a bat!" he snapped back, "What good is a girl if she cannot see anything she is doing?"

His wife merely gazed at him with her abnormally large eyes the look in them calm and relaxed, most unlike the usual wild look she wore when going about her "work". Here in the comfort of her own home with her own family, she looked more like a respectable wife and mother than a half-crazed vagrant despite her strange taste in attire. Her husband then scowled deeper and turned to glare at the fire. Neither of them saw that Thomas had ground his teeth and his fists were clenched hard at his sides. He tried very hard every day to control his anger at them, and now to distract himself he turned himself to the mystery of why his parents ever got together in the first place. They were polar opposites, and his mother was…well…odd.

He never asked either of them why and he certainly wasn't going to start now! Especially when they insulted Lark. What did they know of her talents and achievements over her disability? Thomas then remembered that his mother had seen Lark before at her home and realized that she had never joined in her husband's rant about how useless she was. It wasn't much in their small family to be considered only 'nice' but it was a start.

"Don't you be slipping out on us, either, boy!" His father thundered.

Thomas paused where he stood; cursing the fact he had not been sneaky enough to slip out the half open door when he had the chance. Slowly he turned back to glare at his father who wore something of a smirk on his strong features.

"Yes, _sir_?" Thomas growled through clenched teeth, exaggerating the latter word disrespectfully.

His father's smirk never wavered but slowly motioned his son to come with one stubby finger. Obediently but certainly not willingly his son came and stood next to the great armchair, wishing he had climbed out a window.

"I think," his father drawled, "I would rather you stay here and work for me more. You've had too much leisure time."

Thomas started and opened his mouth to protest loudly of this injustice. He worked for his father day and night weekly! He heard himself automatically replying his obedience to whatever his father wished of him. In his thoughts though, he was furious with his father for doing this, his mother for not doing anything in returned, and at the fact that he wouldn't see Lark. Even if Thomas didn't know it consciously, he was also upset knowing that that Richard character would be able to talk to her, laugh with her and enjoy her mere presence. If he had known that it was that which infuriated him the most of all, his blood would have boiled now. How he could hold such a hatred for that man he wouldn't know, he hadn't even really met him! But he did see the way he looked at her…that strange look in his eyes bothered Thomas to no end. If Lark was destined for someone, he would rather it be anyone else than that man, her so called friend.

Even as Thomas dragged himself to his room in almost a trance of bewildered anguish and fury, he still brooded on the thought that his not visiting might not affect Lark as it would him. Perhaps she would not care if he didn't show up, he thought to himself painfully. Perhaps she would be glad he was not following her like a faithful dog. He found himself in his room and never even noticed as he flopped down on his bed, face pressed into his sheets. Thomas shook himself, he must have reassurance! If he depended on only his own thoughts, he would go mad! Now of all things he realized that Lark's face, her voice, her smiles was almost a drug for him. He had to have it, he had to always feel that reassurance that she cared for him each and every day. A hopeless addict, Thomas was quite sure he would do almost the impossible just to hear her speak to him. He then stood and took to staring out the window, the bright sunshine mocking his imprisoned self. Scowling heavily he sat down at his work desk and pulled some paper out. With luck, he might be able to write a letter to Lark and have one of the passing young boys that played nearby to deliver it. It sounded clever to him and he smiled at the thought. But with every good plan, there is always a downfall.

Barely had he inked his pen, he threw it on the desk with sudden irritation. She was blind! He smacked his forehead with his fist. How could he forget such an obvious thing? Now with reality coming into play, Thomas saw how his plan would have failed in so many ways. First was the perfectly frank, how would she read it? He didn't want her crazy father or her friend reading it to her. The lady was kind enough but Thomas still had a feeling she would tell the other men about it. Next, how would he even know she got it if he ever sent her anything? If he really looked at things honestly, he knew that he'd never be able to trust anyone with a letter, especially if they could read. The splotches of ink spread slowly across the paper as Thomas fumed about the room, stomping the ground hard so that his father would know of his displeasure. Not that he would care, but it would feel nice to annoy him out of his mind…

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**I kinda wanted to show more of Thomas's personality but it didn't work out how I wanted it to. Sorry for the delays! **


	22. Chapter 22

**Oof, I really need to get better at updating! I'm so sorry to keep you all waiting. It's very embarrassing...Anyways, here's the new chapter, hope you all enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: No Phantom for me, but the rest of it all is mine:D **

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Part Twenty-two:

Perhaps it was not only Thomas Peter who felt trapped within his own home but also the one whom he longed to see. Lark was lounging on the divan, eyes firmly closed, nearly bored to tears. After her near death experience with the river, both Erik and Richard were keeping her under constant eye. At first she was rather flattered that they cared so much, especially Erik who didn't show affection well besides throwing his pen at her but purposely missing her when she bothered him.

She stretched and lolled her head off to the side. It was becoming rather too much, now. They wouldn't let her outside and if she ever did, one of them or even both would be right there behind her. Richard was the most overbearing for her for he got overexcited for any small thing. Just that morning, she had miscalculated the steps from her door to the other wall, smacking her nose hard on it. As soon as he heard Lark's cry of annoyed pain, he was at her side in an instant fussing and worrying like an overprotective mother hen. It was only through Rachel that he didn't cart her off to a surgeon for an inspection for a broken nose!

Lark sighed; it was a good thing Erik wasn't around when that happened. He would have been ready to bash the whole wall down if it caused her as much as a trickle of grief. He had been acting oddly around Rachel, going suddenly silent and an awkward aura was tangibly felt in the air around them. Rachel also seemed aware of this and added to the feeling by suddenly turning to anyone else in the room to join them in conversation to avoid talking to Erik. Lark frowned to herself, it was all quite curious and Erik had gotten very embarrassed, very out of character, and had not wished to talk of it. Ever.

She rolled over and nearly flopped off the bed but saved herself by grabbing the cushions behind her. Perhaps, she thought as she pulled herself back on her seat, she would find out later. She usually did. Footsteps behind her alerted Lark of someone. She lay back and listened, ready to test her skill of hearing who was who. Light footsteps, barely made contact with the ground almost like a ghost…Erik. She smiled and said his name out loud and the footsteps stopped. "Do I want to know how you guessed it was me?" he asked dryly.

Lark ignored this and carefully got to her knees, facing the direction of his voice. "Erik, can I please go out now?" she begged, "Thomas might be waiting for me…" The answer was negative to her disgust and without a word about her young friend, Erik walked off in the direction of his room. She was going to go mad if she didn't hear someone else! Annoyed by the lack of affect her begging on Erik she got up and stomped over to the kitchen, unfortunately not hearing the slightly heavier steps of Richard until she bumped right into him.

"Lark! Are you alright?" already her older friend's concerned voice drilled annoyingly into her skull. "Did you hurt yourself?" His hands reached for her shoulders, but the young woman flung up her arms roughly, smacking his own arms away. "That was uncalled for!" he said angrily, "I'm only trying to help!"

Instead of answering him she let out an aggravated cry, turning away from him in tears of frustrated disgust.

"Why in Heaven's name are you crying for?" Richard asked, frowning, backing off. He was startled at her abrupt change in attitude and wondered what he had said or done to make her act so...different.

She became silent, and turned towards him though her glassy eyes were open and fiery with pent up energy. Her tears had already dried, making two long stains on her cheeks.

"I'm so bored!" she cried out angrily, stamping her foot. "Bored, bored, _bored_! Why can't I go out? I want out! I hate being caged up in here!"

"'Caged'?" he echoed, "We're not _caging_ you! It's for your safety!"

"Ha! Ha, ha!" Lark let out a rude snort, "that's what you call keeping me from leaving the house?" She started to laugh loudly, quoting his words. "'_It's for your protection, Lark_.'" She said with wickedly mincing tones. "'_It's for your safety, Lark! Lark, Lark, Lark, we can't let you out of our sight, Lark! You're not allowed to meet new people and explore the world, Lark! Oh dear, Lark, are you going to have a life? We can't have that, Lark!_'"

Discomfited red blotches appeared in his cheeks as he watched her cruel impersonation with mute horror. She childishly continued until more furious tears gushed out of her eyes and she could not speak anymore. Hiccupping and sobbing at the same time, she fell on her knees and wailed like a banshee's child, later falling face down on the floor, pounding it with her fists and legs. She was so mad! How could they keep her in the house for so long? What did she do to deserve this unfair treatment?

Richard just stared at her with slack-jawed bewilderment wondering what he was going to do.

"Lark," he said weakly, "Lark…please don't do this. I'm sorry…will you stop? I'm sorry!" He kneeled at her side and touched her shoulder gently but she only wailed louder, shrugging him off. He rocked back on his heels and watched her with baited breath, eyes widened with disbelieve. Who was this girl….? He certainly didn't know her, not in this unlovely tantrum. Richard had never known she was capable of having one! A hand touched his own shoulder and he spun around quickly, getting to his feet.

"Rachel!" he said, startled, staring into his sister's pitying face. "She just…I didn't…" He struggled to explain the screaming child behind him, still pounding the floor in unhappy anguish. He was silenced as she only looked at him sadly and moved away as she stepped around him.

"Lark, sweetie," she called softly, barely heard over the howls. "Please calm yourself a moment, I understand…" She stroked the girl's tangled hair gently and smiled as Lark lifted her blotched, wet face to hers, her blank eyes searching but not seeing.

"You- you do?" she sniffed, wiping at her tear-streaked face unsuccessfully with her dress's sleeve.

"I, too, know the feeling of being trapped." Rachel murmured, lifting the child to her feet. "I also know a cure for it as well." She turned to her brother who stood there like a little boy, not quite sure what to do but afraid he was in trouble for something. She held Lark close to her and fixed her stare on Richard. "I'm going to take her out to the village," she said, ignoring Richard's loud protest, "the poor girl just wants to get a little fresh air without you two men breathing down her neck."

Lark pressed closer to her friend, whispering a thank you in the soft, gentle voice she normally had, all signs of her tantrum gone besides her wet cheeks and red face.

"Come along, dear, we'll have a woman's day out," Rachel said kindly, walking them past her startled brother and past the hall where Erik's head peeped out curiously. Without another look, she led them out of the house and closed the door firmly behind her as if making a silent dare for them to even try stopping them.

A small smiled flashed across Erik's lips and his door was shut quickly. Richard however stayed right where he was, staring after the two women with mournful eyes. He stood like that for a while, long after Erik's music had started to play again. Richard whispered only one word like a prayer before he turned to return to the parlor to absorb his conscious thoughts with text in hope of forgetting the world around him.

"_Lark_…"

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**Reviews make things speed up! I swear!**

**Erik: Of course...keep telling yourself that, mademoiselle.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Ahhhh! It feels like centeries since I last updated! I guess I can blame it on the holidays this time...hope you all had a good one and I'm sorry that I didn't get a chapter in sooner. I'm trying to work all day on this story so bear with the silly authoress please! Bless all you faithful readers...**

**DISCLAIMER: I like Phantom, but no one will let me own it! T-T **

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Part Twenty-three:

The outing went well for both women and it had ended up in a bit of shopping in the quaint little shops in the village. Lark enjoyed being outside and around so many more people. Even though she couldn't see them, she listened often intently to the different voices and overheard many a silly conversation that she had to share with her companion for a laugh together. And if she kept her eyes open, not many would notice the glassy, fogged appearance and would greet her on the street politely. It made Lark feel so much better and with Rachel by her side talking and laughing with her she couldn't have felt any happier if she had heard Thomas, too. During the day they visited a few stores and ended up buying a few odds and ends including some more oranges that the girl enjoyed and a wine Erik would appreciate. Rachel had blushed deep crimson when Lark brought over a bottle, having it selected by a storekeeper, and would not answer the girl's questions on why it embarrassed her so. But her awkward moment was thankfully forgotten as Lark had gotten a new bonnet, which one of the older shop keepers had complimented to distract her. Rachel also bought a new shawl that Lark had felt out to be 'fine in texture'. It would be rather pretty anyways and it did make the younger woman smile so brightly that Rachel had felt compelled to buy it to please the child.

As they rode back in their carriage, Lark leaned comfortingly on Rachel's shoulder whispering her thanks pleasantly exhausted by the day's events.

"Not a problem, my darling, you needed some fresh air anyways," the older woman smiled cheerily. "Get the pink back into your cheeks!"

They rode on in silence but it didn't take long for the house to come into view. As the both of them descended out of the carriage, Lark declared she would go straight to bed to regain her energy. Without hearing another word from Rachel, the young woman made her way to her bedroom, a bit more slowly than normal. Rachel smiled and shook her head as the door closed and dropped off her shawl in her room before heading for the kitchen. Today had been a good day for she hadn't run into Erik. A deep blush spread across her face again. No one knew how embarrassing it could be for her to even think about the one night where she had gotten drunk. It had ended up with her hanging all over her poor masked companion and confessing her undying love for him.

She sighed and buried her burning face in the package from the day's outing. She didn't lie to him when she admitted her affection. Perhaps all those times she watched him, all those times she was struck dumb just by hearing his voice she had denied any sort of love besides friendship. Just imagine! She, a silly, still single, almost forty-year-old woman having love pangs for a man as mysterious and intelligent as Erik! Before she went off into one of her deep thought trances, Rachel marched into the kitchen…and nearly dropped her bag as Erik sat calmly at the table, pouring himself a strangely ironic but perfectly innocent glass of wine.

"Erik…" she whispered in a strangled tone, tightening her loose grip on her package.

His gold eyes flicked in her direction and she desperately wished she could sink into the floor and never see him again. Erik, however, seemed perfectly normal despite the slight, nervous flexing of one of his long gloved hands.

"Mademoiselle," he bowed his head slightly in greeting. "I trust your… ah…little outing went well?" She swallowed hard but managed to nod and gesture the bags in her arms.

"Yes, we got a few nice things…she liked to be outside more with other people," she muttered, turning away from him to unpack the objects. She heard him chuckle to himself behind her and she stood stock still, hypnotized by the sound. It was so odd, hearing an angel's voice laugh… Rachel mentally slapped herself and tugged a lock of her hair to keep her in check to reality and her unpacking. She tried to forget that Erik sat in the same room with her as she put away things. The woman placed the oranges in a bowl with deep concentration but her companion's dark, lanky figure was hard to ignore in the bright kitchen. So then she chose to be quick, slamming things in place and scurrying to get everything back in its spots as fast as possible. Erik, ignoring his glass for a moment watched her with curiosity and alarm, jumping slightly when the wine bottle banged in front of him. A muttered sorry from her could barely be heard before Rachel returned to rearranging the cupboards in a frenzied manner.

"Are you alright, mademoiselle…?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. No response except the banging of pots got louder. Annoyed, he stood up to his full height and crossed his arms to stare hard at the panicked woman. He could understand her odd behavior from a few days ago after that one night, but now it had gotten to the point where he felt it was unneeded for her to act so around him anymore. Even though Erik still felt rather embarrassed about the whole experience, he did not want it to be in the way of him talking and acting as normal. It got very frustrating to see her getting worked up like this. With two or three quick strides, he stood in front of her like an avenging angel. Before she could turn around, his hands placed themselves on the counter, capturing the startled woman between his arms so that she may not move. She jumped so bad Erik had to tilt his head away before her own could smash into his as frightened shriek made its way out of her lovely throat.

He could feel her trembling as one of her hands clutched at her heart, possibly trying to slow it. He ignored her discomfort and commanded her to look at him. She obeyed unwillingly and then Erik could see her palpable shame deep in her sapphire eyes.

"Rachel," he begun gently, refusing to remove his lock on her in case she tried to get away, "I've noticed you have been…avoiding me these past few days. Perhaps with good reason or perhaps not."

Rachel's eyes widened slightly at his use of her name but she remained respectfully quiet. Not that she would want to speak, anyways. Encouraged by Rachel's absent will to get away he continued softly as though he did not wish to startle her, like how one would talk to a small, scared child.

"We both know what happened that one night," he continued, ignoring her evident wince at the memory, "and you and I were both under influence of the alcohol. You more than I and that was my own fault." She started to speak out against this but he silenced her. "It was my fault for letting you keep up with me. It led to…ah…shall we say 'unneeded conversations'?" He said it in a gently teasing way but he received another blush from her.

His eyes narrowing behind the mask he questioned, "It was not…?" now thoroughly curious with her strange behavior. Rachel had averted her eyes but on a moment's thought she shook her head slowly in a silent disagreement. Erik took a step back, releasing her from her prison and studied her intently, asking what she meant. She twisted her hands convulsively together and still did not meet his eyes. "I-I never lied…to you about what I said…" she murmured, blushing. "I meant it. I still do."

His mouth went dry and it seemed to be like another blow in the stomach. Erik could only stand there and stare at her, still wondering if perhaps the wine had affected her mind entirely. They both stood silent for a period of time but then she turned to look at him meekly. He had not moved an inch but with the current situation they had been faced with, who could blame him?

"You do not believe me?" she asked quietly, feeling despair crawling over her shoulders. It became Erik's turn to jump slightly and he looked at her as if it could be the first time he actually could see her clearly. He opened his mouth to speak, but it just hung there without words and he shut it tight, not trusting himself to speak just yet. Rachel still searched for an answer and seemed to wait as though it may take her a lifetime to hear.

"I…had hoped that it wasn't." Erik finally said painfully, looking out the window.

"Why?" Rachel demanded suddenly, grasping his arm. "Why do you keep running away from me when I say that…that I care?"

He remained silent and turned away from her, but her hand remained tight on the dark cloth. Frustrated, she tried to seek his eyes, to lock them with hers but his remained stubbornly averted and rather fixed upon something outside the window. She glared at him then also looked away, ending up staring at the wine bottle that still sat at the table.

"I don't know what to do anymore," She said shaking her auburn head, "I can only guess you were hurt by someone else long ago…and I can only guess that you do not want that to happen again."

Erik's eyes hardened as he finally looked at her.

"I was not hurt." He growled, the familiar defense surrounding his aura again. She whipped around and looked him full in the masked face and laughed rudely.

"Oh, I'm sure! Look at you!" she sneered, "You've been hiding all this time I've met you from whatever loss you had before Lark! Always dark and sulking… you're still infatuated! You are pathetic!"

Erik stared at her and she glared at him, both their eyes on fire.

"So this is what you think of me?" Erik rumbled, his voice becoming dangerously low and full of pent up fury. He sounded of thunder. "I am this pathetic creature sulking in my misery?" He leered over her as she gazed up at him with a defying look, daring him to make a comeback. "Well, I would not be talking, mademoiselle. For you, too are pathetic. Maybe more than I am!"

"How?"

Erik seemed to relish the chance to hurt her just as she hurt him and behind his mask a wicked grin quickly spread across his malformed face. He started to circle her like a lion around its prey. Like the prey, Rachel followed his movements with the turn of her head and her flaming blue eyes.

"You ask me how, but do you really want to know, mademoiselle?" he said, barely above a whisper. "As you have wounded me, I can easily do to you."

Her eyes burned like a blue flame.

"Go ahead!" she commanded.

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**We got a move on with Erik and Rachel. Hope you all enjoyed!**

**Erik: Review or else she'll never finish. Too busy sobbing under her bed...pathetic.**

**WHAT!? T-T **


	24. Chapter 24

**I've found out that when I'm really into a chapter I'm writing, I have to finish or else it's freaking hard to get back in the particular mood. Anyways...sorry it's been so long!! I feel horrible. I have to stay home for a day and just TYPE, TYPE, TYPE!!!! Unfortunately, it's nearly impossible for that...I should have due dates to where I have to update in a ccertain number of days...sheesh. Well! Hope you love the long-awaited update!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Phantom...-bursts into tears- **

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Part Twenty-four:

Shouting has a tendency to reach anyone's ears within reasonable radar. Canyons can be used to help being heard or large empty houses. It is not recommended for one to scream in a small room with people who are either sleeping or off reading. And then there happened to be the fact that all conversation contained within the scream can be heard quite clearly. Unfortunately, no one had seemed to tell Rachel and Erik any of this. Even if they did know the harmful, rather annoying, affects of screaming they ignored them quite superbly. For in the kitchen, they stood with rage burning from their eyes. Blue fire from Rachel seethed while gold fire from Erik scorched. Back and forth they yelled insults, not knowing how it had all started.

"Foolish!"

"Pathetic!"

"Old maid!"

"Old fart!"

Richard's head finally popped through the entrance of the kitchen, his face scrunched up and red with irritation and frustration.

"Will you two just….be…._quiet_!" he bellowed. They stopped and turned to stare at him, shocked. However, Richard turned and without even looking for an answer he surprisingly led a bewildered and tired Lark out of the kitchen and to the front door with him. He had found her lying wide awake and still fully clothed in her room, a pillow placed over her head to block out the noise. It had been then he had drawn the line with his sister's and Erik's childish fighting. "We're going for a walk," he yelled over his shoulder, "and you two had better solved whatever you have happening when we come back!" With that, he and the young woman left with a bang, leaving Rachel and Erik standing rather foolishly in the middle of the kitchen together. Rachel looked down at the floor, rendered speechless at her younger brother's outburst. Erik, too, seemed humbled and he sighed and rubbed his mask.

"What were we fighting about?" he asked tiredly, sitting himself at the table. The tall woman just shook her head and walked around silently to his side. They remained quiet until she opened her mouth.

"Wasn't it about me…loving you?" she murmured, barely above a whisper.

Erik looked up at her sharply but said nothing. He commanded her to sit across from him but she less than politely refused. A glare was all he gave her before rolling his eyes, resting his masked head on his hands. Rachel did not glare but only stared at him, smiling sadly. The silence seemed so thick one of them could have grabbed a butter knife and cut a wedge of tenseness out of the air itself.

"I just want to understand," she said softly, finally, "why you don't want me to love you. I don't understand and if you ever want me to stop…I have to know why."

Erik's eyes narrowed but she knew he understood what she requested. He seemed to only have a problem answering. Rachel waited patiently, laying her hands on the table top, palms up as if she planned to catch something falling. Erik's long fingers drummed smartly on the wood, then he stood abruptly turning away. He spoke gently but firmly to her, telling her that this would be difficult for her to accept though he would try to get it across. 'Just tell me,' she had said, equally gentle.

"You love an illusion," Erik said bluntly and held up a hand as she stood, protesting loudly. "You know it to be true.. You have made me into something I am not and will never be." Passion seared from the dark caves where his gold eyes lay. He was trying so hard to make her comprehend! "You have not seen _me_. Me as myself, as I truly am."

Her lovely lips parted with disbelief but she did not speak, only nodded. She had not seen him. Not truly. There are things that a mask does not show altogether.

"I…I cannot love anyone anymore," Erik continued painfully, "who doesn't accept who I am! What I am…" He looked at her, pleading for interpretation. "Do you understand?"

It couldn't be held back, Rachel had to speak. She had to say what she hoped to be something in the truth! Some hope for herself…. for him! "Would you love me if I accepted you?" she asked fervently, "If I saw you for what you are without fear?"

He fell silent again and it seemed an eternity before slowly, hesitantly, he gave a slight nod in acknowledgement. The pounding in Rachel's chest was all the more conscious to her and her breath became faint with joy. He would love her! Unable to keep herself under control she came up very close to him, their faces nearly brushing together.

"Let me see you now, then!" she begged, but knew from the past not to seize hold of that white material and rip it off herself. Erik's own heart was beating very hard to keep the blood supplied to his brain to remain conscious. Rachel stood much too close for him to stand! Especially with that bitterly beautiful face that only reminded him of another he had found so appealing. He took a slow, steady breath before answering her, fighting to remain calm and collected as normally as his excited mind would allow.

"Please, not now…not tonight…" he implored earnestly, "if your reaction is…. negative to what you and I wish, what is to keep you from running from me? From this very house?" He gestured contemptuously around the bright kitchen, a short joyless laugh coming from him.

Rachel searched his eyes for something that would tell her it could be only a joke, a mere prod but found nothing but troubled grief. It caused a pang in her heart and she wished strongly to comfort him. "I will accept you," she whispered, taking his hands. Erik's jaw clenched tight, his hands limp in hers. "You do not know that," he growled, his cat-like glare searing. She seemed startled for only a moment and looked down at their hands. A thought occurred to her and a small smile played on her lips as she rose to meet his gaze again.

"Then I best give you something before anything changes," she laughed.

His masked face stony and emotionless he murmured only a single sentence. "Do not do anything you would regret if you were to reject me."

"I promise, I will never regret this…" Rachel whispered and taking his head in her hands, she carefully lifted the mask. It was moved only just enough to the point where his lips became uncovered and there she leaned forward…. and kissed him.

Erik's eyes were as wide as tea saucers and he managed a small cry before she pressed her own lips more firmly on his. His whole body was as rigid as a board but then, slowly, cautiously as a young child, he relaxed, allowing her kiss to overwhelm him. All too soon they separated, but Rachel rasped 'just one more,' and kissed him again. Erik knew nothing of what Heaven could be, but this came very close to his own perfect bliss. Too soon, much, much too soon they parted suddenly as the bang of the front door made them jump. Flustered and red-faced, Rachel squeezed Erik's hand once before rushing out of the kitchen to greet them, laughing somewhat hysterically when her brother asked if everything was sorted out between her and their dark companion. Erik was still standing in the kitchen, a bony hand to his trembling mouth. When the voices of Lark and Richard come closer to him, he hurried out to his room, making sure to avoid Rachel herself as she fussed with the divan's cushions for Lark to sit down.

Their happy laughter felt painful and Erik nearly threw himself into his room, his head whirling, disoriented. He touched his mouth again then shuddered. Oh, her kisses were remarkable, almost intoxicating! He stumbled over to his dark corner where his desk stood and barely managed to sink into the chair beside it. He removed the mask, his hands shaking as they placed it in front of him. It would be true that he did have some feeling for Rachel. They were just locked up. Erik suddenly gave out an anguished sob and buried his head in his hands, smothering the slight noise he made his shoulders shaking. Tomorrow! It seemed all too soon. He needed more time, he wished for more time. But Erik knew that he would not be able to gain such a blessed curse. For along with waiting, there came the painful experience of suspense which seemed worse at times.

He leaned back and shook his head. If Erik knew Rachel well enough, she would be explaining the plan to Lark and telling her the important role she would play for them. A grimace graced his unsightly face, distorting it even more if possible. Lark would be there to keep her from _running_! It hurt him so much, her smiles, her laugh, her beautiful eyes, her enduring effort to get him to love her…it all hurt so much. He was bond to her now, he knew that.

He would die if she could not accept him.

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**Speaking of deadlines, give me an opinion on the number of days I'm allowed to have to update! I want to have one to make me work...when I should be and can be.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Gah! One day off quota...Sorry about that. Though I'm _very_ glad that I have one, now! It makes me work. Thank everyone for making me a quota! I now have to update once a week, no exceptions. It's fun!**

**DISCLAIMER: -Does't own Phantom. Will never own Phantom. Hates saying this everytime.- **

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Part Twenty-five:

Rachel had successfully explained to Lark her and Erik's need of her assistance for the next morning as she helped the young woman into nighttime attire. Lark, both delighted and worried, clung to her arm as Rachel tucked her in gently. She asked if Rachel would be able to go through with this and that she would not have to; no one would force her. Her sweet young face peered anxiously over to the left of Rachel, but it still did not dampen the fact that this concerned her very much. Rachel took it to heart and, smiling, the older woman assured her that she did indeed want to do this with all her might. With a gentle hand she smoothed Lark's hair back from the little face, thanking her for the concern she held for them both. The girl nodded then lay back among her pillows, her brow wrinkled in somewhat deep thought. She did not notice Rachel's departure of the room.

Rachel, now outside Lark's room, sighed and closed the door behind her. She looked about the darkened house with little attention of where she headed. The hall, long and rather ominous, stretched out before her in seemingly endless night. A small pool of light, however, trickled from the living room where Richard read his book silently by a lamp. Rachel shook her head, annoyed at her brother's peculiar antisocial behavior. He had not moved from that spot after he had taken Lark for a walk nor had even come to dinner afterwards. Even Lark, haven been with him for almost the whole afternoon, seemed thoroughly puzzled by it all and could not answer Rachel's questions about him.

"Silly man," Rachel murmured to herself as she passed the room, careful to send a glare in to him. There must be something that could be running in his mind, something that disturbed him so. Normally he would be right in the middle of everything, she reminded herself. Richard was a social type, not the silent and brooding type. Truly, if Rachel really thought about it, she couldn't be upset at him. She would have never been able to talk to Erik had Richard not yelled at them and possibly the kisses would have never happened if Lark or he had been present at that time. A blush steadily rose to her face and she shook herself, hurrying into the guest room where she stayed quite comfortably. Attempting to calm her beating heart, she looked about her bedchamber again as she did almost every night. Her room itself held very little furnishings containing only the small double bed pushed against the wall, a matching bedside table, and a wardrobe with a connecting mirror to fill up the space. In attempt to decorate and hide the plainness of it all, a rather fancy rug had been thrown in the middle of the room and someone, possibly Lark, had placed a vase of dried roses on the bedside table.

Slow with exhaustion, Rachel sank onto the bed, taking up her hair brush. Dutifully she began tackling the tangles that had been formed from the day's events, looking at nothing in specific. Even though she seemed fairly calm, her hands shook and the brush frequently ran over her other hand rather than her hair as she thought about what would happen tomorrow. It still ran chills down her spine… she would get to see Erik for the first time.

"And accept him," she commanded herself out loud, laying her brush down only to work on a knot that seemed tied into a lock of hair. Rachel, rather intent on her chore, looked up sharply with a small intake of breath only when a dark shape passed by her partly open door, reflected in the wardrobe's mirror.

"Who's there?" she demanded as the shape seemed to want to move on rather than linger.

With a small sigh, the door opened a little wider to reveal none other than Erik still in his own evening attire. Even with a mask, his own exhaustion was palpable as well as the fact that he looked horrible as though he had gone through a full day of work of hard manual labor rather than staying at home.

"It is only Erik," he said quietly. "I'm sorry if I startled you."

He started to leave but Rachel hastily stopped him and politely invited him in, patting the spot next to her on the bed. Hovering near the door frame, Erik seemed hesitant for a moment but slowly he complied; he stood next to the bed rather than sit beside her. With only an awkward silence between them, they could almost hear the pages of Richard's book being turned several doors down. Rachel scanned Erik up and down as he gazed towards the mirror uncomfortably.

"You look awful," she commented, forcing her voice to be cheerful and carefree. His eyes slid to her and he scowled but nodded and noted that she too, did not look much better.

"You also seem as tired as I am," Rachel said dryly, "but please, won't you sit with me?"

He hung back silently for a moment but then consented, though he seemed much tensed up about it and would not sit closer to her than an arms length. However, she merely smiled at him encouragingly but yawned somewhat suddenly and had to lean against the bedpost for support.

"That doesn't seem comfortable." Erik observed. He sounded slightly amused though his voice, being so soft with fatigue, failed to let one know altogether. It became Rachel's turn to scowl at him.

"Would you rather me lean on you?" she retorted hotly, blushing. "I'm sure you'd be _much_ more comfortable."

His gold eyes flashed but he gave a graceful shrug, accepting her sarcasm nonchalantly. "I would not know, mademoiselle." Erik remarked, rolling his eyes. "I haven't exactly tried." With only a second to think about his answer, Rachel gave him a crafty grin and slowly scooted closer to him. Aware of her moment, he remained motionless and studied her intently as she slid right beside him, her side neatly lined up with his.

"Maybe we should check," Rachel murmured coyly, the affect ruined only by another stifled yawn. Erik neither protested nor consented but continued to study her. He remained as immovable as possible as she laid her head against his rather bony shoulder cautiously, peering into his eyes. Still, he stayed stagnant. Rachel's face broke into a grin and, pleased that he had not set her off, the rest of her body relaxed against his and she sighed contentedly like a cat.

"Better than the pole?" Erik asked above her, looking nowhere but straight ahead.

"Much better than the pole," she mumbled sleepily, her eyes closing shut with weariness. When she spoke not a word and all around her was quiet, she could hear his heart beating. Its pulse, measured and unbroken, calmed her. It startled Rachel only a smidgen that his heart beat sounded so normal. Even if it be a childish thought, she had always pictured that his heart may have beaten a pattern that of a song or tune as musical as he be. But then, she thought as she listened, if he had had such a unique heartbeat, it would only feel like she would be more alienated from him. That Rachel would be able to be as close to Erik as much as she could be close to the heavens above.

After a few moments her breathing became slower and her weight pushed more against Erik, making it harder to stay upright. In response Erik leaned back on his arms for more support, being careful not to disturb her. Unfortunately this pose would only last so long before it would become impossible to hold both her and him upright.

"Shall I leave…?" he started to ask her, but to no avail. Rachel, haven blissfully fallen asleep right on his shoulder, gave a small smile to hover on her lips. He stared at her a moment longer, then felt his arms starting to give way. Erik groaned with annoyance but that would not stop the fact that he had to lower himself on his elbows, now on his back, with Rachel's head falling on his currently horizontal chest.

He ended having to stare straight up at the ceiling unhappily, wishing once again that he could just stay put at this moment instead of watching the time trickle away to become tomorrow. Oh, he didn't mind having Rachel this close to him, though his poor heart beat faster than normal. It could only be the fact that he might lose her in the coming day that killed him inside. In a rebellious moment, he growled and pushed the haunting thought from his brain. He would refuse to think about such things.

Now absentminded, Erik brushed back Rachel's long auburn hair from her gentle face, peering uninterestedly around the room in a vain attempt to distract him. It didn't help as he wished it to. Now thoroughly exasperated Erik rolled his eyes and shifted both him and the woman into a more comfortable position, Rachel's arm draping around him instead of being crammed into both their stomachs. Perhaps, he pondered as he readjusted, it would be best to just accept this strange turn of events and just enjoy what he had now. He glanced down at Rachel, smiling slightly. She felt a bit heavy, but very warm and her soft breathing rather comforting in the silence. Such a lovely face… he should never be deserving of any affection from her. It still startled him now, that one simple fact she stated so confidently in the kitchen. '_"I love you."' _Erik had dared not to believe it, this impossible statement. It seemed so out of the ordinary to be accepted as his reality. Yet here he had the proof, the evidence sleeping unquestionably on his chest.

His eyes drooped, threatening to envelop him into unconsciousness but he couldn't get up. Too much effort, he reasoned with himself. Besides, he would rather not awaken Rachel; she seemed very comfortable where she lay and Erik wouldn't start complaining now. Why not be happy with what he had now, he asked internally. To live in this moment would be enough. It would keep him going until the dawn struck his masked face. With that thought in his mind, he bent his head forward and he brushed her head with his covered lips, not daring to remove his own mask to kiss her properly. Rachel seemed to sense his mute fondness even in sleep and she snuggled closer, like a slumbering child to a father. Satisfied, Erik exhaled slowly and blissfully allowed himself to slip into a deep sleep after lying a protective hand on Rachel's head.

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**For once, I feel very content with this chapter. It felt good to write it. Or maybe it's the fact I listen to music that helps me get in the mood...eh well. **

**Erik: Review. Stop her ramblings. -.-;**


	26. Chapter 26

**Whoosh! I cut it close to my deadline! BUT I made it. So I'm pleased. Hope you all have been enjoying the story, I work on it whenever I'm inspired or forced:D**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Phantom. Bully. **

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Part Twenty-six:

Above the parched grounds of the countryside, the nights felt as hot as the days even when the sun gone and asleep beyond the horizon. Crickets still chirped but their continuous chords and songs sounded muffled by the heat and humidity of the atmosphere. One would not think it would be an enjoyable thing to take a stroll about in these types of conditions nor would one be out and about searching for something they might have lost. And one would definitely not be out in the middle of that hot night to sneak a conversation with a loved one. Unfortunately, it happened to be exactly what Thomas Peter planned to do for that night.

Sneaking out under the nose of his father came to be mildly difficult but not all impossible for him to accomplish. Thomas had waited patiently for when his parents fell asleep; then he carefully lowered himself out of his window by a rope he had stashed from the storage room of the blacksmithing shop. The rope he used had to be and indeed was thick for support and had been tied around his bed poll, trusting that his father's hand made bed was strong enough to hold him. As he lowered himself slowly, inch by inch, his ears were always cocked and ready to catch any sign of his parents waking. He felt both afraid and excited. If he could get down, he'd be seeing Lark in less than an hour! Thomas grinned to himself and his feet hit the ground with a soft thud.

A moan came from his parent's open window and the boy froze where he stood, peering up fearfully, but no head came out and no shrieks came to tell him someone found him missing from his own bed. Thomas sighed with relief and then stealthily made his way out of view of his home, taking the quietest path. He still grinned ear to ear when he thought of how he and Lark had thought up such a meeting as this, as his own father certainly would not let him go on his own anymore. He could tell that Lark's own father disliked Thomas very much, not that the masked man hid his displeasure of having him around his daughter anyways. Only the woman, Rachel, seemed fond of him. The boy could only guess that she was Lark's mother as Lark herself didn't talk to her or speak of her as such. An older sister seemed unlikely as well.

He and Lark had met just the day before when Rachel had taken her out for a shopping trip. Thomas had been running an errand for his Papa while he worked in the blacksmith and had nearly tripped and fell on his own face when he saw Lark's face flash past from atop an open carriage. Shocked but well pleased he followed both women until they went into a nearby shop. Rachel had gone in the back, leaving Lark safely by the front counter. Her gentle face, patient and calm seemed like a ray of sunlight after years being in the dark to Thomas. Eagerly but careful to watch out for Rachel he came to her side and touched her smallest finger with his; a sign they had made up to alert her of his presence. The young woman gasped with delighted surprise and turned hastily in the direction where he brushed her.

"Thomas…?" she asked curiously, a smile already on her face. Thomas felt himself give a smile in return, knowing she would sense it even if she could not see it.

"It's me, yes." He said ardently, forgetting his manners and taking her hand in his. It made her feel more connected to those she knew, she had once told him. Again she rewarded him with another beaming smile and they talked fervently to each other of what had happened to them and how the other seemed to be doing. It was then that they learned of each other's misfortune of being rather unable to see each other properly. Lark mused over this broodingly, a frown crossing her pretty features.

"How will we see each other again?" she asked, sounding worried. "I cannot go out shopping so often, and you cannot keep running errands for your Papa!"

In hope to comfort her, Thomas took her hand and kissed it, assuring her that they would meet soon, he would make sure of it. Lark's hope filled 'how' he could only all too gladly fulfill with the first outlandish plan that popped into his mind.

"Everyone is sleeping at night, _non_?" he observed. She nodded, still puzzled. "And everyone at your home and mine would be asleep at night, right?" he continued. Another nod.

"Then," he half whispered half said, excited to reveal his plan to her, "why don't we see each other when no one else can stop us?"

At first she still seemed confused about it all, but then it dawned on her.

"Do you mean," she began slowly, "that…you and I will meet at night?" She sounded rather fearful about the fact that Thomas took her hand and kissed it again.

"I will be the one who sneaks out, don't worry," he promised when he succeeded in reviving her smile, "you only have to get up and open a window, or walk out to your front or backyard! I'll find you."

Hesitant, Lark paused for a moment, and then consented.

"But when?" she asked fearfully again as he started to head off; Rachel started to reappear from the back of the store. "When will we meet, Thomas?"

He grinned and whispered in her ear: "How about tonight?" Without waiting for her to answer, he scurried out of the shop in appearance of a boy getting his work done quickly just as Rachel came upon them, a big box thankfully shielding her view. Only after Thomas felt that he would not be seen by the ever watchful Rachel, he glanced back at Lark. He had also told her as he scurried out of the store to give him a sign of her consent once she and Rachel went back out. With a keen eye, he continued to gaze at Lark until she glanced up towards the heavens and nodded, beaming. An obvious yes, Thomas grinned to himself.

Now as the tall, browning grasses brushed his pant legs as he hurried on under the half full moon, Lark's house finally came into his view. Nearly tripping over his own feet, he laid low to the ground and searched the premises for a sign of his friend. A small movement came from the left of the house, Lark! She held her arms close to her, seemingly cold. Her face, like always, was open and she smiled slightly as though she could sense Thomas's presence.

"Lark," he whispered in greeting, coming up to her and brushing her small finger with his. She jumped slightly and grabbed onto his hand for support but then recognized his voice and smiled. "No trouble getting here?" she asked quietly.

"None," he replied, "shall we move on…?"

As the boy spoke, his arm wound in hers gently, making the girl clap a hand over her mouth to smother her laughter. They headed off around the house towards their favorite spot in the backyard under a tree. All seemed perfect and no one had caught either of them, as well! But in their cloud of bliss, there lurked an ominous black cloud. A pair of eyes watched them, a fire burning in their midst. As the couple quietly made their way under the moonlit night, the shadow of a person followed.

Richard, concealed by the darkness of the house's shadows, scrutinized both Lark and Thomas, anger burning behind his expressionless face.

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**I've been ignoring Richard for some time. Feels better now that he's getting back around. Thanks for reviewing, I hope you all continue!**


	27. Chapter 27

**Ack, ack! Sorry for the one day delay! **

**DISCLAIMER: Don't own Phantom, alright?? I'm in a rush here! Read you fools! REEEEAD! **

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Part Twenty-seven:

The dawn was far from arriving and the sun too exhausted to rise up into its rightful place of the sky. For Lark and Thomas, they had all the time in the world to enjoy each others presence. Through the darkness they talked quietly, sometimes having to stuff their fists into their mouths to smother a small scream of laughter as one would pretend they heard something or saw something in that silent night. Hovering nearby, however, stood not a ghoul or goblin as they pretended with each other but Richard who listened ominously to their talk, his face in shadows. He actually had been napping on the couch when he heard Lark's door creak open. Startled, he had leaned back, head visible over the armrest of the divan to watch her small light figure make its way down the halls. Being rather trusting of Lark and knowing of her lack of ability to work on a normal individual's time schedule he ignored her and laid back down, nearly dousing off again.

It came to be the disquieting sound of the front door opening that made Richard fly up like a bullet from the divan to look over at her with alarm. Lark's blonde hair was reflected in the moonlight prettily and it seemed that her mind had become absorbed in other thoughts for she did not hear Richard quietly follow her out the door. As she moved down the walk, the young woman became more cautious and uncertain. Her follower, also uncertain if he should announce his presence as a good gentleman should, couldn't help but feel an incredible urge to rush to her side and help her. She seemed very lost in that permanent darkness her blindness caused her to be cased into. Richard could not deny the fact it made him more than saddened. It made him furious. At first it was easy for him to talk to her, to act if nothing had changed. Later on as he saw over and over again her troubles and her disability keep so many things hidden to her, he couldn't even look at her in the face without knowing _she would never see anyone again._

Watching after her now hurt, but Richard's concern for Lark's safety overpowered his shame of seeing her in her blinded state. He followed her stealthily as she made herself comfortable near the left side of the house, looking as if she were waiting for something. Suspicion rose in his chest and he settled himself down deep in the shadows, following the direction of her ear. She would often than not turn her ear in the direction she needed to "see" to make sure of the things that may or may not be there. Richard found himself straining to hear something out of the ordinary of that night, and nearly cried out in alarm as a figure made itself known only by notifying both Lark and he by the rustling of the long grass. Lark had already leapt to her feet, her face shining with a mingled expression of anxiety and joy. Richard felt himself involuntarily baring his teeth as the figure became one of a young man, Thomas Peter. Instead of making himself known like a father figure should, Richard stood and escaped farther into darkness so that the two now happily murmuring youth would not spot him and stake him out.

He listened intently with an anger he had never felt before flaming in his chest, like that of one of a jealous rival lover. The couple spoke so quietly, it became impossible for Richard to catch a single word other than each of them calling the other's name. He crept closer, and followed when they retreated more to the back of the house near the place they had once talked and laughed before the boy had stopped coming. A thrill of frustration came over him as he only caught a snippet of conversation and he crept closer still until it would've been possible for him to breathe down their necks. They were sitting under a tree and Richard hidden behind could now hear them well enough.

Lark's voice came first to his ears, small and soft. "Thomas, are you sure you won't be caught? I couldn't bear it if I was the one to cause you trouble at home…"

Thomas' voice next, though gentle still was rough and a bit deep. "Doesn't matter to me. Don't worry; I feel no guilt coming here. That's all that matters. I just wanted…"

Silence, then the young woman spoke again, her lovely voice even softer like that of a coy lover. It made the hairs on the back of Richard's neck stand up straight and a chill down his spine.

"What did you want…? Tell me, won't you?"

One could almost hear the small smile in Thomas' tone as he responded.

"I wanted to see you. Only you, Lark, only you. That's all I care about right now…"

All three of them seemed to have stopped breathing. Richard, taunt with rage and dread moved to the side of the tree he hid behind to watch the young couple, his own breath gone as if he had been smacked. His hands curled gradually into tight fists, shaking with emotion.

"Alright," Lark murmured almost inaudibly, her blush invisible in the dark, "may I ask you why you say such things, dear monsieur?"

Richard could now visibly see the other young man's smile and nearly growled when the youth's hand took hers. How dare he be so bold with her!

"Because you are the most important thing to me." Thomas said slowly, "Because nothing and nobody could replace you. But mostly because…" he leaned forward to whisper tenderly in her sweet little ear. "I love you."

Lark's small, trembling gasp somehow masked the noise of the older man's noiseless groan of anguish as he slid to his knees. Richard now looked desperately at the young woman's face, hoping against all hopes that she would somehow refuse the boy….reject him, push him away…anything! But despite his silent pleads, Lark's face flushed and she spoke the words that snapped her hidden companion to pieces.

"I-I love you, too…" she whispered, almost in amazement. "I love you, too."

They smiled awkwardly at each other, and then started to lean forward, their lips almost touching…. A dark, sinister voice whipped through the summer air, sucking all the warmth out with its chilling touch.

"What are _you_ doing here, scum?"

Thomas came to his feet in an instant, at ready to defend anything that might threaten Lark or himself. He scanned around him for the owner of the voice unaware of the young woman's sudden change in expression from fear to stunned realization at his feet. A figure stepped out from behind the very tree they had sat. Richard, his eyes burning into Thomas' own eye sockets, looked the exact likeness of silent rage.

"I repeat," the man hissed, "what are you doing here?"

"Richard," Lark mouthed his name silently, shock etched in her normally serene face. How could she have not sensed him…? She sat there at their feet, her poor mind reeling.

Thomas' face turned became hard and his jaw became stone. He would not talk. Not to this man. A cold unfeeling smile besmirched Richard's lips.

"I suggest you remove yourself from our presence," he purred, "or I think your parents will find this all an interesting story to hear." He started to circle Thomas, his eyes flashing. Lark, desperate to find a way to help Thomas escape somehow grabbed at Richard's foot that she had felt beforehand.

"Richard," she whispered helplessly, "please, it's not what you think…"

He regarded her coldly, unresponsive but seized her arm and jerked her up to her feet almost violently. A cry came from Thomas' throat as he stepped forward but the other man held out a warning hand and the youth stopped warily.

"If you come closer, I shall look forward to personally revealing your little adventure over here." Richard jeered. "And my, my, my, what a terrible thing it would be if they found out about this all! For you anyways…."

"Monsieur," Thomas started, "Please, monsieur, it was my idea…

"

"Indeed!" Richard interrupted smoothly. "And it is _my_ idea to give you five minutes to leave this property and return home before _I_ change my mind about alerting everyone who is in charge of you."

The boy stood there staring at this mad man, wondering how this all could've happened. Their plan had been perfect! No one had heard either of them, both he mad Lark were sure. He looked at him in bewilderment and did not move.

"Go now, boy." Richard said dangerously. "I have a small amount of patience…"

Both men glared at each other for what felt like ages but after a moment and a worried glance to Lark, Thomas ran off, curses escaping him as he ran. Lark, trembling, gripped her hands together tightly, yearning for the moment just before all this when Thomas' warm hand settled in hers. She could hear Richard panting hard as if he had just run miles instead of sending off her lover. The crunch of his feet told her that he had turned to face her.

"How could you…?" Richard said brokenly.

She disregarded him and remained silent. For the first time in the months she had been blind, she was pleased she would never see Richard again with her own two eyes.

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**Yes, yes, I've discovered that I will have to work during the week as well as weekends to actually make deadlines. So lazy...**

**Erik: Give me a review and I'll make her hurry next time. -snaps Punjab threateningly-**

**...Help me...**


	28. Chapter 28

**Allo again! Made my deadline, I'm so happy! Word of warning. I'm not too sure with this chapter. I had a writer's block for a moment and...yeah. This is the product of that. Although it DID help me get back in my normal writing! So be happy, other chapters will come on smoothly again.**

**DISCLAIMER: I write and write, but I do not own Phantom. What a lame job! XD **

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Part Twenty-eight:

The tense silence between Lark and Richard could have been cut with a knife it became so thick. The young woman had not uttered a word and refused to answer her friend's calling, no matter what he asked or spoke. After several pleadings and calls, he then fell silent. Unsure, he attempted to help her back to the house, taking a gentle hold on her upper arm.

"Don't touch me!" She snapped suddenly, slapping at his hand and missing by inches.

Richard, startled at her fury, drew back without comment. Unlike the unfeeling being he had been to Thomas, as soon as he and Lark were alone he had shrunken back to being the friend she had. If only Lark could see it the same way. With an aching heart, Richard became forced to watch as the poor girl stumbled and tripped back to the house, her vehemence and grief making her clumsier. Anytime he would dive in to right her or catch her, she'd push him away once more and ignore him with such a ferocity Richard started to fear her wrath. Both were too lost in their own emotions to say anything.

Somehow they made it to the house. Before Richard could speak again, Lark flung herself down the hall and into her room, barely smothering her tears. There in the hallway he stood dumbly, staring after her with regret. Surely he had done the right thing. That young boy had no right to be sneaking around at that late hour. And certainly not with Lark! With a twinge of anger, he recalled on how close he had cut it before making himself known to the two sweethearts. Richard felt like screaming in rage and jealousy as the thought of Thomas kissing Lark. That boy didn't love her like he, Richard did! With that jealousy burning inside of him, he started to head down the halls. Oh yes, he now knew for certain that he loved Lark.

It became impossible to ignore. Richard had not wanted to fall in love with her in the beginning. He had even felt horrified and disgusted at himself when he noticed how lovely or attractive his former "little sister" had become to him. But now he had nothing to disillusion himself any longer. Hoping to somehow remove these thoughts from his mind, Richard had slowly pulled himself away from her. He couldn't even bring himself to look at her, even when she called for him. After some time, he had completely alienated from anything to do with her. But as much as he tried, it didn't stop him from thinking about how much he cared for the girl…

Richard slowly made his way down the halls to check up on his sister, hoping she hadn't heard the little escapade. Tiptoeing to her door he slowly started to open it. At that time, he felt extremely thankful that the doors all had been oiled way back when he and Erik were still fixing the house up. The door opened smoothly and with no effort. Without any thought of what he might see, Richard poked his head in and glanced towards the bed.

A small gasp escaped him and he quickly turned away in agony. For what he saw pierced him in so many ways, the pain would become unbearable if he looked for a moment longer. A contented Rachel still slept peacefully on top of Erik. The tall, skeletal man looked asleep as well due to the calm, slow rising and falling of his chest. It looked as if the woman had merely collapsed on him as if he were part of the bed itself instead of a man. Thoroughly shaken and whirling in his own bewilderment, Richard closed the door and stumbled unsteadily to his own room, one hand placed on the walls for support. How was it that even his sister had more luck in winning the one she yearned? His thoughts reeled and his other hand he pressed hard to his unfortunate beating heart. He couldn't stand this… he couldn't bear it. His sister had won again. She had gotten exactly what she wanted. Richard, however and like always, lost the small portion he had started with. Barely aware of his surroundings, the poor man collapsed onto his own bed, miraculously finding his room. He couldn't stand this anymore. There in the darkness and the silence he shamefully wept himself to sleep.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Light streaming in from the room's window brought Rachel back to consciousness. She sighed and squeezed her eyes tighter against the vivid sunbeams. It felt too comfortable here, so warm and nice with all the covers. Covers? Suddenly her bright sapphire eyes snapped open and she sat up quickly, looking around. It was still her room with the sparse furniture, dried roses, and a pool of sunlight coming in from her window. A token brought to her from the sun that clear summer morning. Rachel placed a hand on her head, trying to reorganize her thoughts. Something seemed to be missing. She glanced down at herself. She had accidentally slept with all her day clothes on and her shoes lay on the floor, forgotten. What felt so out of place…?

She then remembered all that happened last night. Erik, who she knew for certain had been with her before, now was absent. Also, she had seemingly been tucked in by him earlier; her covers still encircled her in a warm nest. Dressing quickly, she nearly ran out of her room, running a brush through her untidy hair. Although she knew she had slept in for quite awhile, she still felt a twinge of hurt when Erik wasn't with her that morning. He might've been busy though, she reasoned to herself, and they were going to see each other face to face that very day…. Rachel shuddered with excitement, then searched about for everyone else. All their rooms were empty and the only noise she heard came from the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, I must've slept in," she announced cheerily, walking into the brightly lit room. Unfortunately, her cheerful greeting soon died in her throat when she saw the tense scene before her. "Oh dear."

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**Yesh. Review. That's all I have to say.**

**Sorry for those who wanted a full, great scene of the morning between Erik and Rachel. Sorry, but I thought of something romantic happening. It felt too OOC... It felt more natural that he would leave her before she awakened. Again, sorry. Hope you're not mad...Don't hurt me...**


	29. Chapter 29

**Ack, ack, so sorry! So sorry! Sudden Science Project snuck up on me. I procrastinated at the wrong time... Terribly sorry for the wait. I'm getting horrible at this, aren't I? Yes, I am. Anyways, here's your update! Apologies for the wait!!**

**DISCLAIMER: I haven't bought Phantom yet, so relax. **

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Part Twenty-nine:

There are many types of tension and some may be good or bad depending on situations and quite frankly no tension could have been like the one in the kitchen of that little house. This probably would have been a beautiful day for the skies were clear, bright blue and the air didn't have the dying heat waves any longer. Birds sang sweetly while a large crow or two cawed annoyingly among other noises of the late morning. Inside the kitchen where the tension lurked, Rachel observed the scene in an awkward silence. It seemed like an innocent enough picture with the three people sitting at the table together, a bowl of assorted fruits in the center of the table. Lark sat next to Erik while Richard sat across from Lark.

The young woman glared at her best friend with such fury Rachel was surprised the poor man didn't melt under her gaze. But perhaps it happened to be only because her gaze seemed off target from his face. More to over his shoulder and out the hall if one wanted to be specific. Richard, victim of this hate sent his own glare, different from the girl's. If the unease had been a cloud, it would have been pouring. Either way, both gazes made the air of the whole kitchen vibrate in its own tension. Erik, looking rather bored and unaffected by all this glanced up to meet Rachel's awkward eyes.

"Good morning," he said, "care to join our cheerful table?" His golden eyes rolled in annoyance but they smiled at her when they fixed themselves back on her face. She flushed slightly and settled down next to her brother who ignored her dutifully. Rachel looked at both of the competitors and sent a questioning stare at Erik who shrugged gracefully.

"They've been at it for a while now, mademoiselle." He said dryly, handing Lark an orange to tempt her into eating.

The blind girl took it after feeling his hand, but her anger barely allowed her fingers to wrap around it clumsily. She did not begin to peel it.

"All morning?" Rachel asked incredulously to no one in particular.

Her brother growled under his breath but still refused to speak. His older sister huffed and sat back, looking unhappily between them. A moment of the tense silence continued awkwardly. Then Lark broke the glare suddenly by shutting her eyes and relaxing against her seat. She then smiled sweetly in Rachel's direction, to the surprise of all of them.

"I'm so sorry," she said meekly, "I didn't mean to, Rachel. I was just a bit unhappy." She attempted to look back at Richard, but once again missed. "I apologize to Richard, too…"

Erik stared at his adopted child in mute observance but made no comment or signal that he found her sudden change in attitude odd. Rachel, relieved that one of them cracked got up and bustled around to make herself useful, stopping by the young girl to pat her fondly on the head.

"You are forgiven, dear," she assured her, "it seems almost shameful that a young, pretty girl has to apologize before some as old as Richard." She sent a meaningful glare down to her brother.

Richard, caught off guard by this, blushed shamefully. "I'm not that old…" he muttered, looking down. His older sibling snorted disbelievingly, an odd thing to hear from such a lovely person as herself. Indeed even Erik, who was beginning to feel like he could accept anything strange nowadays, looked up, cocking his head slightly. Rachel made her way over to her younger brother who scowled up at her defiantly.

"How old are we then if not 'old'?" she asked sourly. Lark suppressed a smile behind a hand as Erik smirked slightly. Richard's mouth remained a thin, tight line as he glared downwards.

"Exactly." Rachel said, putting her hands on her hips. "Twenty –eight isn't much of a spring chicken, now is it? Especially when one wants to join a childish sulking game."

Satisfied with this, the woman walked back over to the cabinets to see what she could make for her own hunger. Her younger brother barely held the urge to stick out his tongue at her behind her back as he always did as a small child. He hated the fact that she always seemed to win at everything, even their many, often pointless arguments. The tension had left, leaving the kitchen as peaceful as it should be. Richard cautiously glanced up at Lark and was bitterly disappointed to see that nothing seemed to affect her. She had stricken up a conversation with Erik who seemed rather grave.

Richard didn't bother to listen in to their topic. Instead, he ended up gazing at Lark, unwillingly admiring her. How could it be that she always seemed to pull off looking like an empress? A smile tugged on his lips as he noticed her hair, messed up from independent attempts. It seemed that she had refused any help from his sister this time in dressing herself. His smile faded when Lark's eyes flashed open, looking angrily in his direction, like she could sense his thoughts and strongly disapproved of them. He stood silently and left, disarmed by her scorching gaze. They had actually caught his eyes. Erik observed this absentmindedly and turned his attention to Lark again.

"We will be in need of you today," he told her again, softly.

Lark nodded solemnly while Rachel paused with a pounding heart at the counter, her back to them. Everything in her seemed to tremble with both excitement and worry.

"I'll be here," Lark said cheerfully, forcing a smile on her lips. Truly she was excited as well about all this, but inside she still felt so angry at Richard… How dare he threaten to expose her and Thomas when it happened to be _Richard's_ fault that they had to meet in such a suspicious way! She now listened to her guardian and friend, nodding and agreeing about what she could do for them when Rachel would take off Erik's mask for the first time. Lark gave a shiver of delight. Oh how happy would Erik be if Rachel, too could accept him as she did so long ago! For the past few days Lark felt rather guilty that she had not paid much attention to her "father's" needs or hidden tips on how he felt. Now she would be able to help and make up for where she had failed to pay attention. _Please, _she said silently, _let this be helpful to my Papa and Rachel. Let her see him for who he is…_

_

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_**I wanted this to be longer, but then it would've been...ah..._too_ long. .;; Reviews are my life source! Thank you so much, readers for so diligently making them! I'm so grateful!**

**Erik: And so pathetic. It's a miracle they haven't murdered you. It's a miracle_ I_ haven't, now that I think about it...**


	30. Chapter 30

**Right-o! Sorry 'bout that...sudden Pep Band trips aren't good for the working authoress...And ya know? I've found music, manical laughter, and the fact that no one's home is really helping me get these done! Sorry for keeping you all waiting!**

**DISCLAIMER: As a phan, I cannot own Phantom for fear of me making it go MY way. **

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Part Thirty:

Rachel, Lark, and Erik planned for the removal of the mask quickly, in order not to ponder about it longer than necessary. Both adults were very jumpy at the very idea of it whereas Lark seemed to be the only one who felt rather calm and stable. Rachel stammered most often when she tried to talk and gave up trying to say anything to Erik. Even he seemed on edge, looking very pale behind his mask. Richard knew nothing of any of this and no one seemed to notice when he left at the breakfast table except Lark. And he certainly wasn't one of her top priorities right now. She pushed him the farthest away from any conscious thought.

Rachel now moved about the parlor edgily while Erik watched perched on the arm of Lark's chair. Both women couldn't seem to stop moving in some way. Rachel wrung her hands while she paced. Lark's legs kicked the bottom of her chair though she hummed softly to herself. Erik sat still as a statue besides his golden cat-like eyes which followed the older woman back and forth. They had all agreed to do it in daylight, to make it less like a fantasy in case the darkness affected Rachel's way of viewing Erik's hidden face. For the moment they were deciding on where it would happen.

"Surely," Lark said thoughtfully, breaking the silence, "it would be better if it _wasn't_ in P-... er, Erik's room. I think it would be a…ah…unneeded dramatic scene."

Erik sent her an unseen glare while Rachel shrugged and wrung her hands despairingly, pausing in front of them.

"If you think that is best…" she murmured worriedly, "I certainly haven't a clue!"

She seemed bothered by something and if to banish it, she started to pace again. Lark unsteadily rose to her feet, a hand placed on her seat to keep her from falling or bumping into something. She still hadn't gotten the whole house 'memorized' so she still had to be cautious.

"Well…let's get this going, then." Lark said cheerfully, making her way to Rachel's room. Both adults watched her go, neither feeling very well about following. With a shuddering deep breath, the tall woman glanced at Erik barely managing a small grin. Even behind his expressionless mask, his eyes were gentle. Oh, wariness still had not left him, but that did not stop him from being kind to her. He stood silently but did not go off after Lark.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked quietly, not needing to explain what he meant. Rachel looked rather startled but then puffed up like a proud rooster or peacock. Erik could almost see a plume rising behind her in many wonderful colors.

"Don't insult me, Erik," she said sternly, "I would not do it if I wasn't sure!"

She started to walk away in a huff but when she passed him, she stopped. Her heart seemed to jump erratically whenever Erik felt close. Now glancing back at him he seemed solemn and worried. Odd characteristics to match with him… she never felt that he would be like that.

"You're worried…" she murmured, turning to him.

He bowed his head. "_Je suis désolé_," Erik said, "but I cannot help it. It just feels like something will happen that we do not wish…" He trailed off and fell silent. Unconsciously, Rachel took his hands in her own hands as some sort of comfort. Deathly cold as always, they almost shook with whatever emotion he felt. She peered up into his face and saw the strain this would have on him. A half smile crossed her face and she gently tugged on his hands, getting him to follow her.

"Trust me," she whispered.

He remained silent but he answered her calls and took the slow, seemingly endless steps to the room that would determine the outcome of everything. When they entered the bright chamber, Lark stood by the window, a determined look in her glazed eyes. Rachel flushed and released Erik's hands even though she knew the girl could not see. There was just something about the way she looked that told you she knew everything even if she couldn't see it. Lark's blonde head rose at hearing their footsteps and she took a step forward and came to Erik's side.

"Are we ready…?" she asked, finding Erik's hand to fit in hers.

Rachel chanced a look at Erik before quickly looking down, wringing her hands again. She heard Erik's consent and felt a bit nerve racked when his voice, too, seemed to be nervous and shaky. This, she realized, would be a giant step for both of them in either a positive or negative way. Her tall frame quivering, Rachel also consented and took a step towards Erik and Lark.

"Always," she tried to reassure both them and herself, but her voice cracked slightly and blushing again, she fell silent.

Lark gave a curt nod and positioned herself before the door, closing it behind her. Erik glanced once at the door, the painful reasoning of that closed barrier hitting him like a punch in the gut. Rachel gave a small jump as well, but pretended it didn't bother her in the slightest. As if to prove her point, she took another step closer to the tall, skeletal frame of the man she would uncover. But out of the blue, Erik took a hasty step backwards.

"Not so close," he croaked out, shaking his head. "If you're too close…it…"

He made a helpless gesture as his throat closed, but thankfully Rachel understood even though she felt a bit hesitant. She shook herself mentally and begun to reach for his mask but stopped halfway. The tenseness could be felt everywhere. Lark gave an involuntary shudder. Erik's eyes were wide as they could go, the gold reflecting from the sunlight almost in a panic.

"What's wrong…?" he managed to choke out.

Rachel just stared, her face made of marble. Her light blue eyes glimmered mysteriously and she seized the mask on both sides, clasping his head in her hands. Erik, startled, managed to hold his spot though her knee jerk movements had made him want to take several leaps back like a frightened cat. The tall woman breathed heavily as though she had run a marathon.

"I didn't know how I was going to take this off…" she explained in a whisper, placing her forehead against his.

Weak in the knees, Erik nodded slowly, relishing the fact that this might be as close as the beautiful woman may ever get to him. Her sapphire eyes closed briefly; perhaps she felt the same… Then air seemed to slap his bare face as his mask was ripped away and a piercing cry rang in his ears.

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**I hope this is satisfactory enough to keep you all from hurting me! **

**Erik: ...**


	31. Chapter 31

**Early update for those who have been waiting for so long, thank you! I thought it would be best with the cliff hanger I left you all with. I didn't realize that a bit of free time and the right music I could get so into this...I love it! Anyways, why are you reading this? Start reading the update, sillies!**

**DISCLAIMER: If I owned Phantom, we wouldn't be here, would we? **

* * *

Part Thirty-one:

The cry died as soon as it was released. Erik stood stock still, the horror in the sound still vibrating in him. He stared as though struck. Lark pressed herself against the door, her own glassy eyes open with surprise at the noise. The mask lay forgotten at the feet of the tall woman who removed it. Her hands covered her mouth, as though disgusted that it had let out that ungodly shriek. She trembled violently, her eyes wide with terror of some frightened animal as she started

"R-Rachel…" Lark said helplessly. "Please, Rachel, it's alright."

Rachel shook her head frantically, tears spilling down her lovely cheeks. She couldn't tear her eyes away from that face… Erik's face! Surely there couldn't be any other human face like it. She promised not to be afraid. She promised him! How could she make such a foolhardy promise? There would be no one in the world that one could look on that sight at first glance and not be frightened. Nothing could be heard throughout the room but her quick little gasps for air and the sound of a pounding heartbeat in everyone's ears.

All senses were turned to Erik who still stood, struck dumb. Of course she'd be afraid. She just tried to be brave for him. He felt numb. Nothing was real. Nothing felt real. Truly he wondered whither this Godforsaken scene would be just a trick of his mind or the genuine perverted reality made to torture him now. Rachel could visibly be seen shaking with fear of him. In a vulnerable gesture, he upturned his hands in a sign that he would not harm her. He felt exposed. A night creature exposed to the harsh light of the day. He did not belong in the sun or the sky or the places where people could see him. Erik belonged in the dark. The darkness never made any false promises except for one of protection. The darkness did not and would not betray him to be seen.

He watched her in a sort of despairing detachment as Rachel's eyes slide towards the door, a mouse looking for an escape when caught between the cat's claws. She bolted, flinging herself at towards the door then screeched when Lark stubbornly held her back.

"You won't get out until you apologize to Erik." Lark said firmly, her poor young face pale as a sheet. "You promised!"

Rachel struggled briefly with the younger woman then glanced back at Erik, paranoid that he too would come to restrain her. But Erik still stared, his golden eyes nearly hidden from view in that awful, distorted face. Quite as suddenly as she had bolted for the door, she sank to her knees and wept. Lark begun to cry as well but her tears were silent and she stood near the door, still barricading it with all her might.

"I'm sorry!" Rachel cried over her own wails, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. _I'm so sorry_!"

She clung to her head in shame and rocked with the tremors of her bawling. With all the cries and with all the overwhelming drama, Erik looked at his hands, trembling violently himself. No one could love a monster. Not even a musical one. His hands crept over his face and smothered it in the dark protection that they could offer. No one could love him. No one would. Not that way. Not the way he wanted, he desired. Even if he couldn't tell now, inside, he was breaking. He couldn't even tell that his mouth opened and his own scream of utter despair came from his throat.

Silence hit the others as he screamed one long, tormented noise that none of them ever would hear again. Lark, if possible, went whiter but she did not say anything. Rachel clung to Lark's skirt, alarmed and disturbed. Erik's demented scream would be the one every soul would make as it shatters. He would lose everything, they lost their gamble. They laughed in the face of reality and it had stabbed them from behind in rage. He turned away from them, his scream broken and gone. The look in his eyes and in his expression had on from pure grief to horror in himself. He found himself staring in Rachel's mirror. If one could die from internal emotion, Erik would have dropped dead there in front of them. His body became stone and his eyes locked on themselves in that hateful reflecting surface.

Lark, unable to see any of this, began to panic and called her adopted father's name over and over as if that on syllable could bring him back to her and make things the way they were before. He did not seem to hear her but continued to stare at himself.

"Erik, _pleas_e!" Lark yelled, "Please, please, answer me!"

Silence. A horribly ominous silence. Then a soft, angel's voice, barely above a whisper called him.

"_Erik_."

Somehow Lark felt comforted by this voice and rested against the door weakly, barely aware that the woman who had tried to escape was no longer near her. For Rachel had somehow made her way to his side and had kneeled next to him. She called him again but his eyes stayed on the mirror, his face slack. With quivering fingers, she took his cold, death's hand that swung uselessly at his side in hers. Still no response, but she didn't care. Bending over the one hand that called her, beckoned her, she pressed it against her cheek then kissed it.

"I'm alright now." She whispered to it and kissed his hand again. "I hurt you, but I…I'm alright now."

Erik's voice touched their ears, soft, horse, and hollow. "How do I know that?"

Lark listened intently, her face screwed up in worry and concentration. Rachel seemed to ponder this because she kneeled quietly at his feet and did not say anything. Then she stood slowly, her dress rustling gently. She kissed his hand, then his arm, then his shoulder as she raised slowly, tears tracking down her face. Erik shuddered but remained still.

"I don't know." She murmured, resting her chin on his shoulder so that she could peer into his face.

His head turned slightly, his eyes burning with all the emotion he could muster….and she did not look away. He took a step back and reached for her shoulders…and she did not flinch from his touch. His hands cupped her face instead and he made her look at him fully in the face….and he saw no fear any longer. She looked sadly up at him, a child returning back to the friend that accidentally frightened them to tears. Her face no longer neat and pretty, but blotched and flushed with her tears rested trustingly in his hands. Erik's lips twitched and he rested his head on her shoulder and let out an aching sob. Rachel's arms encircled his middle hesitantly and pressed her face into his chest comfortingly.

"I'm sorry…" she murmured to him, hugging him tight. "I'll never, ever do that to you again…"

He leaned on her heavily, both with relief and exhaustion, letting out a few shaky breaths. His arms still hung uselessly at his sides. Lark, keenly sensing the change of atmosphere, took a few unsure steps towards them. Rachel let one of her arms go out to the girl, touching her outstretched fingertips. Lark gasped, eyes refilling with tears but backed away, smiling and shaking her head.

"Thank you, Rachel," Lark said, smiling through more tears, "Thank you…you did it."

It was Rachel's turn to shake her head slightly, replacing her arms around Erik.

"I did nothing," she whispered to both of them. "I just stayed longer to see him truly, forced or not…"

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**Review...?**


	32. Chapter 32

**Typical that the first time I update ahead of schedule, I end up reupdating past deadline. I'm sorry!**

**DISCLAIMER: No Phantom for me...but there's no Phantom for you, either. I feel better. **

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Part Thirty-two:

It had gotten much, much darker before Richard started trudging back to the house in a resigned sort of way. He left the house early that morning in search of nothing in particular. But now as he returned, maybe he had sought out something to distract him with. Either way, the dried grass swished beneath his heavy, somewhat clumsy footsteps. Vaguely he thought about what he had done that day as he continued towards the house.

Far from wanting any more human company, Richard had meandered far from the town and had instead found himself standing before the only other house that was within their range. He stood a bit off the road several yards away from the home and leaned on a tree watching the comely scene, indifferent. The day could be compared to being the perfect one for doing nothing in particular but enjoying oneself and perhaps spending time with each other. Now there could be no such day for the mentally exhausted man. The one he should like to spend time with hated him. He sighed but looked towards the house as a door banged open and shut loudly.

A familiar figure rushed out into the sunshine, a hoot of laughter echoing across the golden grass. The figure soon became a shirtless, tanned, and rather sturdy boy with a shock of flaming red hair whose face Richard memorized as his rival long ago. The young man, too thrilled at his escape from the house, would have run right past the older one if Richard had not called out to him. Tripping as if shot in the back Thomas whirled around warily, for it was he whom Richard thought of as a rival.

"You're rather carefree for a troublesome boy," Richard remarked coolly, smirking in the shade. "Why don't you join me under my tree?"

"Good afternoon, messier," Thomas replied warily, coming no closer. "Out for a walk?"

The older man smiled coldly.

"Such manners," he sighed, straightening, "pity. You are correct, though. I have been out walking for awhile. And you, my dear boy?"

Thomas watched him suspiciously folded his lean arms across his bare chest. His red hair blew with the slight wind as the sun still shown merrily, unaware of the tension beneath its rays.

"Are you here to mock me only, messier?" Thomas asked. He sounded tired but started to walk towards Richard unwillingly. He felt rather alarmed at the man's presence, but mutely promised not to be baited if that is what the bitter man wanted. Richard yawned but shook his head in a no, saying he had no patience for mocking and found it childish. Thomas felt he seemed to be getting very contradictory, but sensing it might end badly on Lark's side, kept himself from pointing it out. Instead, he reluctantly made his way to stand next to Richard, asking what his purpose was.

"I have none just yet," Richard replied, bored, "Again, I have just been out and about. And it just so happens that I've made my way to your house." He scowled as Thomas gave him an alarmed look. "Oh, don't worry; I shall not be introducing myself to your guardians. I am surprised you remember my warning."

Thomas slipped against his will, unable to catch the words as they spilled out from his betraying tongue.

"Why wouldn't I remember your warning?" He smoldered mutely under Richard's haughty gaze. "Sir?" he added reluctantly, in case the other's good humor vanished. Fortunately, only another maddening smirk besmirched the foul lips of the rival being.

Richard glanced up to the sky briefly. Blood seemed to be boiling under his skin from his concealed anger. Perhaps this could be a mistake talking to the very boy who confessed his own affection to Lark. Even though Richard himself had made no announcement of his personal love, it drove him almost to the edge just thinking about Lark's pleased response to Thomas. _"Me, too."_ He could easily learn to hate that statement. Although, it didn't help that he felt like scum in what he was going to do to this boy. Surely no one deserved this. But he must. He must! It made perfect sense to him. If Richard wanted anything at all to happen between Lark and him, either good or bad, it would have to be he who would take the first step. And he would.

"You seem like a devoted sort of man," Richard said dryly, still staring at the sky, "to love a girl such as Lark."

Thomas winced as though hearing the name of his sweetheart could be a physical blow. Richard glanced down at him and resisted the urge to laugh.

"Oh?" he said in a deceiving sort of tone. "Surely you are more devoted than she! I heard she went off to the town without a second thought of you. How dreadful of her…Yet you remain so loyal. I am jealous."

The boy, tainted with the words, peered at the older man uncertainly. He believed easily that this so called "friend" of Lark could be jealous, though he couldn't put a name on why. But for him to be saying such things about Lark herself puzzled Thomas to the point of asking why he would say such things about her.

"You mustn't misunderstand, boy," Richard said with a careless wave of his hand, "I think of Lark dearly; surely not as much as you, but enough for me as a brother figure. I want her to be happy. But also…"

Here the man turned to Thomas with a brotherly look, though its warmth did not reach his eyes. It ran a warning shiver down the boy's spine but he ignored it.

"I also care for the ones she seems to hold affection for." Richard said kindly. "I do wish that you should be mislead by her…ah…actions. They can be quite confusing. Not her fault of course since she doesn't realize this, poor thing."

Again, that cold smile became known on Richard's face as the boy seemed more startled than ever. It didn't feel right to him. Lark knew exactly what she said and did. Could this be a trick? Thomas remained silent. It didn't stop the wandering thoughts in his head, though. He had never doubted Lark's word, and he certainly didn't trust messier Richard…but still that niggling feeling that he may or may not be right prodded Thomas to open his mouth to ask: "Why do you say that?"

A triumph for Richard.

"Well," Richard said slowly, "Lark doesn't really love anyone."

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**Love. It's both wonderful...yet terrible. Review? I really hope it wasn't slapdash. I don't like rushing work.**


	33. Chapter 33

**Right-o! I just really got in the mood for writing today! -laughs- Though I guess that's only because I wasn't feeling well enough to do what I normally do on the computer. Sorry the last chapter was a bit draggy, I hope I improved...**

**DISCLAIMER: Okay, okay, you caught me. Leroux secretly gave Phantom to me. Bwahaha! ...Ha...you don't believe me so nevermind. **

Part Thirty-three:

Yes, it had been an odd afternoon. Richard reached for the doorknob of the door. He smiled slightly at the surprised look the boy had given him. Of course, Thomas had denied it and refused to believe a word. He must have been upset for he did not continue to speak to Richard and had run back to his house at full speed. But the seed of doubt would be in him now, Richard knew. A single betraying thought could topple a person's trust in another just like removing one log from the bottom of a perfectly stacked pile. Both success and guilt swamped the man as cheerful voices could be heard faintly from inside. How did it come to all of this? The door opened and he let himself in, following the slight murmur of conversation elsewhere in the house.

It felt like yesterday when everything would have been normal and free of drama or troubles of a heart. Richard would be able to talk to Lark without her wanting to never hear of him again. There would be nothing between Erik and Rachel but friendship. Thomas wouldn't even be in the picture. And last….Richard placed a hand on the hallway wall, paused outside the parlor where the voices were….Lark would have sight. He felt that things had changed drastically when she could no longer see anyone even though he refused to show it. A sigh escaped him. Why couldn't it be yesterday…? Squaring his shoulders, Richard turned the corner and viewed the parlor seemingly detached.

"There you are, brother!" Rachel's cheerful voice reached him first. "We were just talking about where you went! You had us a bit worried, you know."

Richard viewed his sister silently as she sat on the divan, Erik beside her but not too close. She seemed aglow by happiness and her hand tightly clung to the long gloved one of Erik who looked rather bemused by it all.

"I am sorry if I caused you to worry," Richard muttered. "I wanted some time alone so I took a walk."

He chanced a glance at Lark who sat in one of the armchairs tying knots in a thread she had found on her lap from her dress. She stiffened as if she could sense him looking at her and sent a hard look his direction before turning her head back towards her other friend and guardian. Erik watched both her and Richard's actions mutely. Feeling awkward from where he stood and getting no more conversation from his sister, Richard made his way to sit in the armchair next to Lark.

Lark immediately struck up a conversation with Rachel, determinedly not glancing towards the unlit fireplace where Richard's chair stood. Erik, comfortable with being left out, sought out Richard's eyes again.

"You must have gone out for a long walk," he said softly enough that Richard forced himself to pay attention. "Lark wondered if you would be coming back at all."

The younger man looked up sharply, his eyes wary. The mask he stared at remained emotionless but the cat-like eyes behind them were prodding and curious. Hidden in Richard's shadowed lap, a fist clenched tight but he replied lightly that Lark would not so much as notice his absence than the light of candle going out. Erik seemed to both frown and smile in a sort of amazed way.

"Then she noticed quite a bit," Erik remarked bluntly.

Richard's lips twitched and he stood suddenly, politely excusing himself from the room. The older man nodded his head once in return, puzzled. Lark ignored her friend's quick exit and talked to Rachel with more fervor than anyone could over the color of one's winter mittens. Erik's eyes darted between the two once again, a true frown hidden beneath his mask. _Interesting_, he thought. _Very interesting._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Much later in the evening when Lark had been put to bed with slightly more fuss than normal and Richard, too headed off to sleep Rachel and Erik still sat with one another on the divan. A fire now burned brightly for their light and Erik's face free from the hold of his mask at Rachel's request for his comfort. His hand was wrapped around hers and he rubbed the back of her hand thoughtfully with his thumb, his eyes brooding. She rested her luxurious head on his shoulder and peered at him curiously.

"You have that deep thought look in your eyes again," she murmured, snuggling closer.

Erik glanced at her slightly startled but gazed back into the flames.

"Do I?" he asked, smirking.

The smirk twisted his face even more in the firelight and Rachel had to catch her breath slightly before agreeing, pressing her face into his shoulder. Even though earlier that day she promised she could handle his face, it still shocked her every time she saw it. Oh, it didn't affect her love for him, it seemed to strengthen even, but now and then the thought of how his face could've been like that naturally ran through her mind.

"Have you noticed anything…odd between Lark and your brother?" Erik asked casually. "I sensed a rare amount of distain from both parties today."

"Hmm," Rachel said, "I did notice, but I thought it was only a passing little tizzy between them. Although," she seemed to trail off talking mostly to herself than Erik, "that in itself is odd. Richard and Larky got along just fine in the past. Never a real fight between them."

Erik nodded as if this confirmed something to him and the subject was dropped. He then glanced at their entwined hands, still astonished something like this could happen to one so ancient as him. Rachel smiled slyly at his concentrated stare and leaning over slightly, pecked him affectionately on the cheek. It grabbed his attention immediately and almost gasped. She laughed lightheartedly at his bewildered look and took the advantage of his stunned silence to kiss him on the lips, pressing against him content. Another startled look briefly shown in his gold eyes until they closed apparently pleased with the closeness he shared with Rachel's lovely face.

She kissed him again and again till his head spun but all too soon they separated as she attempted to hide a small yawn.

"I've kept you up again," Erik said apologetically, his heart still pounding giddily. "I don't usually keep a very good track of time."

He stood and helped her to her feet, hesitantly holding her longer than necessary. Rachel seemed to be thrilled and hugged him briefly, sweeping out all air from his lungs once again. She did not let go of one of his hands. In the other, Erik held onto his mask, placing it back on as they exited the parlor. They trailed about the house slowly, enjoying just being with each other until they came to the point where they would have to separate to get to their different rooms. With a nervous glance down at Rachel who looked up expectantly at him, Erik reluctantly let go of her hand. He let out a short spurt of air and looked from his room's door to hers, bewildered on what to do. Fortunately Erik didn't have to say anything when Rachel glanced at the door of Erik's "domain."

"I don't think I've ever been in your room," she commented, smiling, "Lark tells me it's quite nice."

He couldn't stop a hidden smile from spreading beneath the mask before staring at her anxiously, one hand on the doorknob.

"I…don't mind you seeing it but…" he hesitated, "it's not what you would call _normal_."

She gave another small laugh, her voice sounding like little silver bells. It made him want to catch hold of that sound and hold it in his hands.

"Erik," she said shaking her head, still smiling, "both you and I would be not what you'd call normal."

In the probability that she might have offended him, she added quickly that nothing could be described as normal anyways and kissed the palm of his hand since his face currently was covered again. His eyes glimmered happily and with another uncertain look, he eased the door open and let her enter first. With an awe of a small girl, Rachel turned around and around, staring at everything as she walked further in. Erik watched her amusedly as she looked over his desk and music sheets, shrugging when she picked up two or three empty bottles of wine, exasperated. He had attempted to reconstruct his original room from the Opera house to the new one.

The walls were hung with all black with only the bright white staves to set off the rather funeral feel. He even had the repeating notes of the _Dies Irae _across the staves. Rachel looked at the notes for quite awhile before turning to the thing Erik felt the most uneasy about: his coffin. Normally he would have had the red canopy, but he hadn't been able to seize it in time. Instead, a black one hung in its place from the leftovers of what there was hanging on his walls. The coffin's fine gloss gleamed in the candle light as Rachel approached it slowly. Erik shifted nervously from foot to foot.

"Ah, I see what you mean," Rachel murmured, touching the soft red satin inside.

Erik coughed awkwardly and came over to join her to peer into his sleep space. She seemed puzzled by it, but just as Lark, she did not look frightened. After a few odd moments, she stood and, to Erik's alarm, climbed into it settling herself comfortably inside. She grinned impishly up at his startled eyes and snuggled deeper into the cushions inside.

"A bit snug," she said with a hint of playful disapproval, "but I guess it'll have to do, won't it?"

Erik stared at her for a long time before opening his dry mouth.

"Pardon?"

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**Review...? **


	34. Chapter 34

**Spring break! Where my parents don't understand the word "break" in it! Sorry, sorry! I really worked a lot during my limited vacation on a labtop, but as one knows, you need internet to update anything. DX Sorry. Really should have tried to update while I was around...**

**DISCLAIMER: Phantom isn't mine. Yet.**

Part Thirty-four:

"Amazing how you don't become claustrophobic in here," Rachel commented, still lying in the coffin. She didn't seem to notice Erik's embarrassment most thankfully for him as it felt as though his face were on fire. The woman plucked and pulled experimentally at the satin, leaving Erik nothing to do but watch her and wonder what she meant with her words moments before. Could it be that she had just been teasing...? He shook his head with a sigh. Even if she could have been serious, Erik would have had to have her clarify by what she meant by saying: "...It'll have to do..." To no one's surprise if they knew of his puzzlement, he wasn't going to start asking her now.

He came back to reality as Rachel climbed rather quickly out of his sleeping box and came towards him.

"It really does feel small in there," she admitted, sounding embarrassed that she let it bother her. "I frightened myself thinking about what would happen if the lid came down on me."

Almost impulsively she wrapped her arms around him, seeking comfort and glanced back at the coffin. Erik attempted to regain his stolen breath and carefully wrapped his arms around her, also glancing at the coffin. He then noticed a problem with her theory. There was no lid to close a person in on. She noticed it as well and laughed embarrassedly.

"You see why it wasn't logical," she blushed.

Erik hastily turned his bark of laughter into a small cough, trying to pull off a sympathetic look while he was at it. Rachel scowled deeply at him and abandoned his gentle hold, stalking back to the hallway. Erik did not follow, fearing he really did make her angry until she poked her head back in and asked if he was coming or not. Relieved, he followed without question, now chuckling to himself at her mistake. She was definitely one of a kind.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The breakfast table seemed more or less normal now. Everyone seemed to have become tolerant with the tension between Lark and Richard as well as with the strange, secretly happy aura that followed Erik and Rachel. This particular morning, though, seemed to buzz more in a manner of speaking. Lark was in a deep conversation with Erik, professionally ignoring Richard who took up to sulking behind a book or paper. Rachel, however, stared intently at the wall, her face screwed up in concentration. Suddenly her fist slammed on the table with such a force that everyone jumped and either stared at her or the wall near her in bewilderment and alarm.

"That's it!" she cried out loudly, standing up too quickly so that her chair fell over in her haste.

"What's it?" Richard asked sullenly, knowing very well where this might be leading. He had lived with her long enough to interpret her strange, sometimes impulsive actions.

"I've got it figured out!" the older woman half sang, half avoided completely answering the question asked.

Lark giggled childishly as Rachel hugged both her and Erik in joy while dancing about the kitchen. Her brother, less amused than the others and rather irritated by his sibling's enthusiasm, tried to slink away from the excitement. Grabbed from behind, he nearly swore with shock when Rachel attempted to dance with him. Erik watched them, laughter in his gold eyes. Lark seemed to be more curious as to why her friend was so happy for she asked what had she figured out.

"Everything!" Rachel gushed, throwing her arms out and with spinning her brother once in an ending to their "dance" she rushed out of the kitchen and her door could be heard opening and closing.

"Women," Richard growled, picking up his paper again.

He didn't seem to notice the glowering look he receive from Lark. She tended to be right on the mark of where his eyes were once too often for him to check anyways. Erik also stood uncertainly, glancing down the hallway.

"What is she talking about?" he asked to no one in particular.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_"Lark doesn't love anyone. Lark doesn't love anyone. Lark doesn't love anyone..." _

Thomas lay on his back, staring at his ceiling again. It had been only a day since that man, Richard, talked to him and already his thoughts were swarmed with what he was told. He knew it could all be a lie and he wished deeply that Lark would soon confirm that to him next time they would meet. He rolled onto his stomach and glared out his window. It puzzled him that the man had not spoken to his parents about anything for his window wasn't barred as Thomas knew his father would do. What did this man expect to gain from any of this? If it was to make Thomas panic, he only succeeded vaguely for Thomas only panicked the minute after Richard finished speaking. He ran from the man, true, but as soon as he came back to his own home the panic was gone.

Out of pure frustration the young man threw his pillow at his wall and got called for it by his mother who passed his door. He ignored her warning as scenes from that afternoon floated to his mind.

_Thomas stared at Richard in complete shock. The other man's face was serious and no light nor sign did he give that it was a joke. _

_"She must've loved someone earlier, then." Thomas replied defensively. "No one hates everyone right in the beginning."_

_Richard had laughed._

_"Oh, it's not that," he assured the boy, "she did indeed love her family. But to love someone out of that family...that special bond... it is completely impossible for her."_

_Thomas gave him a troubled look._

_"I don't understand what you mean, messier," he said guardedly. "How is it impossible? If you can love your family, surely you can love someone else."_

_Richard peered at him, his laughter and smile gone._

_"I admire your logic," he said slowly, "but if she loved anyone outside her family...wouldn't you agree that she'd tell you all about herself?"_

_"Yes, and now I prove you wrong if you pardon my way of seeing so," Thomas said quickly, "Lark has told me much about herself." _

_Richard's face was empty of all emotion but his lips opened to sow the seed of doubt._

_"She has told you _everything_?"_

_Thomas nodded, though he looked at the man uncertainly. _

_Richard peered at him intensely._

_"Has she told you about what happened to her in the past...?"_

Thomas paced his room, irritated. Instead of asking what the man meant, he had panicked and bolted for fear of everything Richard had said. Of course Lark told him everything! If there had been something, even if it were minor that she felt he needed to know, she would tell him. Thomas had told her everything about himself as well. If she asked anything of him, he would do so. He knew her feelings and she knew his!

He threw open his window and leaned out, glaring in the direction of the house. Right now, he was past caring about what Richard would do. He wanted to see Lark. He would not believe a word spoken to him by Richard until Lark herself confirmed it to be true.

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**Again. Sorry for the delay! Review...?**


	35. Chapter 35

**Right-o! Random and annoying events happening over here. My folks have assumed (once again) that I go crazy and obbsessive over the computer, thus cutting back any time whatsoever for updates. Luckily I am on now, but not for very long. I wanted to be able to warn you all if it seems I haven't updated cause I have! It's just not online...(irritated sigh) Right. Read on!**

**DISCLAIMER: If I owned Phantom, the world would be very strange indeed...er...at least strangER.

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**

Part Thirty-five:

Rachel's breakthrough was only known later that afternoon, with her bags packed and sitting calmly by one of the carriages. Richard, having his guess confirmed, helped her load her bags determinedly as though he couldn't wait to have his sister shipped out. Erik and Lark stood next to them, the latter smiling in a bemused way while the first one stared at the woman incredulously. Rachel heaved her last parcel into the back before turning to look at the sheepishly.

"I'm sorry this came up so quickly," she apologized to them both, "but I just can't loose this idea. I must get it done once and for all. Do you understand…?"

Erik nodded mutely while Lark reassured her that they understood completely ad wished her luck on her painting. The sudden idea of how to finish it was the reason behind Rachel's sudden departure. Willing to do anything for her, Erik had permitted the woman to stare at his uncovered face and do rough sketches after she had rushed from the kitchen that morning. It had taken quite a bit of persuading, though. Erik did not like his face on advertisement. Now, with his mask firmly back on, he looked wistfully at the carriage, wishing it would disappear without Rachel at all. It would be hard to get used to not having her around anymore.

"Finally you will put this thing to rest," Richard groaned, rolling his eyes as his sister hugged him goodbye. "I won't have to be bothered anymore, right?"

Rachel ignored him and pulled Lark into an almost suffocating hug. His brother viewed them silently alongside Erik, but with a huff of annoyance he turned on his heel and disappeared back into the house. Lark bubbled like a little girl again about how wonder it would be to have, in her eyes, the masterpiece done. She seemed more cheerful today than she had the entire week. Smiling and laughing along with her, Rachel caught Erik's eye and beamed. She claimed it would be all because of him that her work would be done.

"Lark, may I say goodbye to Erik now?" she laughed as Lark clung to her in a younger sisterly fashion.

A knowing smile crossed the young girl's face and she nodded and skipped to the house only tripping once. Erik shook his head and sighed. She would be the death of him someday. Two arms snaked around him and he found himself pulled into a deep kiss, his mask slipped up.

"Is that my goodbye gift?" he asked as Rachel released him, her cheeks blushing crimson.

"Sort of," she replied shortly, kissing him again. "I'm not going to see you for five days or so. I want to be able to still feel you during that time period." She paused. "No exceptions."

"I see."

Finding the fact that Lark couldn't peek and Richard didn't seem to care, Erik couldn't be happier. He felt the same, of course. It hurt him more than her, though. She would be painting the very image of him while he would be alone again in the house with two people who loathed each other for whatever reason. Erik mentally noted that he would try to reason it all out or at least figure out the problem. Still, he would miss Rachel's warmth. And her kisses if he wanted to be completely honest with himself. The only woman who could love him and kiss him without closing her eyes in fear or disgust was leaving him! Even for a short time, Erik had a feeling that his wine would be his close companion for the time being.

"No wine," Rachel suddenly said, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. His eyes were getting too easy to read nowadays. Erik sighed sadly but she remained absolute.

"I'm not going to have anything to do," he complained to her. "At least you shall be busy."

She only rolled her eyes but took his head gently in her hands and found his lips again, cutting off his complaints. His shoulders relaxed and he boldly put his arms around her though he was still unsure whether to kiss her back or not. She still overwhelmed him and he broke away first, his heart hammering.

"I don't think I will let you go," he told her sullenly, holding her recklessly close. "You do not need to abandon me."

She laughed and scolded him for thinking such nonsense. This wouldn't take as long as he feared and he should respect her work. His image would be used as the pinnacle of the whole painting and he should be thankful. A crafty grin stole across her lovely face suddenly and Erik looked at her with a questioning, yet wary stare.

"What is going through that devious mind of yours, now?" he grumbled. "Trying to figure out another way to send me to an asylum? It won't work you know, they refused me last time."

He smiled faintly when she laughed with both horror and delight.

"Of course not!" she chuckled. "Don't think I haven't tried. No, no…I want to be able to know if you'll be good or not. Maybe give you a reward if I get a good report?"

She wrapped herself tightly around him and gazed into his eyes coyly. He eyed her with puzzlement, but nodded uncertainly. She bit back a smile and with a straight face observed that he seemed to not want her reward for him. He shrugged, confessing it all depended on what the reward could be. After all, people had different opinions of what a reward was. She laughed again and assured him that he would indeed like it. With that and another squeeze, Rachel ascended into the carriage and soon became lost in the distance.

Erik looked sadly on and touched his mask briefly, fixing it back in place. A voice nearby chirped up annoyingly.

"Are you going to stay there forever or shall we go to town now?"

He jumped violently and glared down at Lark who appeared seemingly out of nowhere at his elbow. The girl grinned slightly, feeling the gust of air from his movements but repeated her question.

"Why would we go to town?" Erik asked sulkily, not wanting to do anything more but go back to the house and do absolutely nothing.

It would have been his first choice in what to do if Lark did not start to smirk, her expression uncannily like Richard's for a moment. The smirk disappeared as Erik's eyes remained blank with puzzlement. She sighed and lifted her arms in mock exasperation while shaking her head and clucking her tongue. Erik smoldered and asked her again why. He felt that had she not been like his daughter, he would have already strung her up from pure annoyance. The girl sighed again in an irritated way as if tired of explaining a simple answer to a simple, rather dull student.

"Honestly, I don't see how any of you get along without me," Lark scoffed, "we're going to town for a _ring_, of course! A soon-to-be fiancée needs to have an engagement ring!"

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**Sheesh, honestly, right? XD**


	36. Chapter 36

**Hey everyone! Thank you so much for the reviews! I hope everyone's enjoying the story!**

**DISCLAIMER: No Phantom ownage for me... maybe I can PWN it? Haha. Lame joke. XP**

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Part Thirty-six:

Erik spluttered and blushed shamefully as Lark stood confidently, arms crossed most unladylike in front of her chest.

"How did- I didn't- What?" He finally got out, staring hard at the girl before him. "You don't know what you're talking about."

She snorted disbelievingly and her dull, glassy eyes rolled back a moment in her head. Both she and her guardian knew exactly what they were both talking about without a doubt. Erik would only be fooling himself if he tried to talk his way out of this one. And Lark wasn't about to let him, either. It wouldn't be something she'd be able to overlook and leave be. She secretly hoped that Thomas would not be so dramatic over things such as this.

"_Mon bonté_, Erik!" Lark replied, grinning exasperatedly, "How could I not know what I speak of? Rachel and you, don't you try to discourage me, are crazy for each other. _Vrai amour, tu comprendre_."

Erik ran a hand down his mask, face burning underneath. He and Rachel tried to keep their affections hidden from the others, relying on Lark's blindness to hide small gestures they gave each other and Richard's obliviousness to the world for the rest. Unfortunately, the blind young woman seemed more perceptive than they hoped she would be. Now to make things perfect, Richard would have to have realized this as well. Most embarrassing. Especially when Lark seemed to have known all along. For how long, Erik could only wonder.

"How can you be so sure?" Erik asked lamely, trying to seem offhand even though the very thought of anything to do with weddings and bonding made his heart race overtime. "Perhaps you are mistaken." Right. And the sky above would turn purple with green clouds. Lark scowled deeply.

"The tension in every room you and she are in is unbearable. A babe would be able to see that you two are obviously in love." She remarked, setting off towards the back of the house to fetch another carriage. "Come, I can help you pick the best one out there!"

Still stunned, blushing, and completely embarrassed Erik followed grudgingly, wishing with all his might Rachel had never left to have him deal with so much stress.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Richard seemed to be picking up a habit of boredom these days for he did nothing but wander and read very little the entire afternoon. It didn't pass in his mind of the whereabouts of Lark for with Erik gone, she couldn't be with anyone else but with her dark foster father. He sat in the kitchen and barely batted an eye when they entered later that night. He only looked up when Lark stood right next to him and hugged him gleefully around his head squealing about something in such a high-pitched voice, it seemed to be a miracle Richard didn't loose hearing in that left ear of his. Erik took a seat across from them both, looking slightly embarrassed.

"I take it," Richard commented, his voice muffled by the smothering embrace encased around his head, "that you both have something to tell me?"

Erik smirked a bit at the scene before him but nodded all the same. Lark released her friend a bit unwillingly and threw herself ungracefully into a chair, almost missing the seat by inches. Richard seized her shoulder to steady her, but released the girl quickly and turned his full attention to the tall man before him expectantly. Erik coughed.

"Well," he began slowly, "it has been called to my attention that you know of your sister's and my…feelings for each other."

Lark smothered a smile in her hands while Erik glared for only a moment before continuing.

"I have been told by Rachel specifically that your parents are both deceased. As I see it, the agreement must come from you instead." He grimaced. "I would like to request your consent, Richard, to marry your sister."

There was a tense silence as Richard eyed Erik coolly, contemplating in his mind what he should choose. Truly, he did not mind the would-be groom himself. He knew just by looking at this creature that Erik had had his own share, perhaps more than he deserved, of hardships. Rachel, though, would be a different story. Even back in their youth, Rachel expected nothing from others and found joy in whatever she had. Richard turned out to be the opposite, always needing something else, or searching for one more thing that would hopefully make his life completely happy.

Richard knew he could say no to this proposal and the other man would respect it, even if it harmed him inside. It would give him no satisfaction, though. Rachel probably didn't even know that the man she loved would marry her in a heartbeat. She would not be affected by any of this. She would continue to love like there could be nothing in this world that she needed more. And he was angry. Angry at her for not needing anything yet always getting something while Richard himself knew what he wanted, but would never receive. His suddenly enraged eyes glanced at Lark and the fire dimmed. His shoulders slumped and he left out a sigh.

"I thank you, Erik for asking me," he replied, "but there was no need to see me. I wouldn't have stopped you even if you had not sought out my permission."

Erik turned his head, confused but the ecstatic light could not be extinguished from his golden eyes. He started to thank his future brother-in-law but Richard cut him off with an almost irritated wave.

"You may marry Rachel if you wish." Richard said flatly, his face emotionless. "I don't care. My good wishes for you both."

With that, the younger pushed away from the table and walked away from the kitchen that was filled with sudden, happy squealing of Lark's joy and congratulations. She did not notice Richard's absence.

"Rachel still has to agree," Erik reminded her, pushing the overly enthusiastic girl away from him though he smiled behind his mask. "And for that she has to come back."

Lark attempted to smother her guardian with hugs again.

"She will!" she gushed, "Oh, she will, she will!"

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Back in Paris in the large house of the Bair's, lights flooded the single workroom where the painting sat gleaming with fresh paint. Much work on it had been completed, though there certainly could be more still to come. Rachel stood back thoughtfully, her hair pulled back messily and her dress and arms covered with both old and new paint smudges. Sometimes, even she could be impressed with her own work. Her brush carefully placed behind her ear, she rested from several hours of repainting, scraping, and drying with much success.

Anyone who would ever attempt to disturb her would be lashed out at and met violently with a half empty paint can. This was the work area. This was business. There could not be any distractions for her or else she would not be able to re-enter her "creative state of mind" as she put it once to her brother. Still, Rachel did admit to herself that she wouldn't be bothered too much had Erik gone with her. Then again…

She shook her head and cleaned out her dirty brush water bucket, glancing at the sketches next to the little sink conveniently installed for her workroom. What a face to paint, Erik's. It had to be perfect or she would never be satisfied. As she gazed fondly at the horrific face, a burst of joy erupted in her and she felt like dancing and spinning. Being alone with herself she complied for only a moment before stopping, dizzy.

"What was that about?" she wondered out loud, laughing at herself.

* * *

**Pardon my French. P I'm not terribly good at it, but I like to add it in now and then...**


	37. Chapter 37

**Blah! This chapter took me forever! DX I'm sorry, but it just didn't want to be finished. I'm also sorry if it's not as good... It's one of those ones you have to sludge through to get any more of the story done at all. Hope you guys haven't gotten bored and left! (crickets chirp) ... Guys? **

**DISCLAIMER: No Phantom ownage for Haley.**

* * *

**Part Thirty-seven:**

Little by little the few days barely seemed to move much to Erik's displeasure and aggravation. Had Lark not been with him or the less than energetic Richard, he would have probably gone mad and gone against Rachel's wishes to work alone and take off to Paris himself.

"I hope she brings her painting," Lark mused out loud one afternoon outside.

Erik graciously granted her request to go out sometimes to feel the sun and the earth under her feet. Of course, he would have to accompany her each time, not that the girl minded as much. The only thing that soured her mood was Richard's gloomy presence.

Erik, who stood near her nodded agreeably, not caring whether the painting came home or not so long as Rachel could be there as well. The sun took its time sinking into its nest of the mountains beyond them, splashing its last colors into the sky.

Richard sat a ways off from Lark, almost challenging the sun with his glare. He spoke not a word in consent to the wish expressed with his colleagues but seemed lost in his own thoughts. The girl, determined to not be ruffled, shook her hair from her face and tried to soak in the fading sunlight like a sponge.

"Erik, are the clouds on fire or are they blushing?" she asked teasingly, her own useless eyes closed against the harmful rays.

She often asked him questions like these to describe what she used to know and see herself. It painted a picture in her own mind she told him once and that if he could answer, then she could see what they saw in her own world. But instead of Erik answering her childish question, Richard looked up at the blazing orange and gold and red sky.

"The sky's burning down, the flames are so intense." He murmured, his voice surprisingly flat.

She bit her lip against the sharp reply that she wished to reply and instead thanked him, her own voice flat and untrue. Erik glared at them both, baffled by their choice of punishment they racked on each other. Every day it seemed that Richard wanted to say something, but the young woman would cut him off short, saying something uncharacteristically cruel or sarcastic and again the man would fall silent. But at the same time, he would do the same and whenever Lark seemed to want to say something kind or make an opening for normal conversation, he would dismiss either himself or her.

"It is so stimulating listening to your loving conversations," Erik said coolly, helping Lark up as at last the sun sank into its bed. "But I can only take so much. We shall leave now."

It was not a request. Lark protested only slightly, but allowed herself to be guided away by her foster father, a slight pout on her pretty face. Richard stood and stared once more at the vanquished sun. He could feel it within himself. His feelings needed release, any kind of release! Not once did the simple three words escape him to be voiced into reality. Now, looking beyond the mountains, his lips parted and his whispered to the wind not the words he wished, but ones of despair.

"What shall I do?"

Silence was his only reply and staying only for another moment, he followed unwillingly behind Erik and Lark. Suddenly he nearly ran into the skeletal back of Erik himself and had to check himself quickly to prevent collision. The tall man's gaze seemed on something fantastic for his eyes were opened wide in amazement. Lark, blind to what seemed to have stopped him located and touched his hand, silently asking for explanation. None could be heard and with puzzlement, Richard followed Erik's silently shocked gaze. The house, unlike the dark little hovel they left it as, now gleamed with a cheery light and a carriage sat proudly before it. Rachel returned home.

"What is it, Erik…?" Lark asked timidly, but Erik already set off at a fast, but still oddly graceful pace towards the house, oblivious to anything else. "Well!" the girl huffed snippily, barely concealing the worry that would have been very apparent in her voice.

"Rachel's home," Richard told her softly, "he was excited."

Her eyebrows rose in amazement. Hesitantly, she smiled slightly at him remarking that she would have loved to see that. A small smile touched his own lips and he laughed slightly agreeing. And then it became like it used to be. Friendship rebound together, they laughed together for a moment. It would only be that moment though, for Lark's smile fell and returned to being hard and cold as the reasons of her dislike came flooding back. She declined his help and with new eagerness to see Rachel herself, hurried down towards the house as fast as she could without accidentally killing herself.

Richard watched silently and then kicked the ground in frustration.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Inside, everything seemed to be filled with light all the way to the brim from the joy pouring out of the corner of the kitchen where Erik and Rachel sat. Flushed and sitting as close to Erik as possible without being too forward, Rachel wore all smiles. The painting, she explained, had indeed been all finished but needed to dry more.

"Of course, I brought it here to dry." She added, slightly smug. "I promised you all you could see it."

Lark, grinning as wide as her pert little mouth would allow, squealed excitedly at the news the 'masterpiece' would actually be here with them.

"Brilliant!" she trilled, "brilliant! You have to explain it all for me!"

The artist laughed and agreed full heartedly though slyly mentioned that she may explain it far better than it truly was. Erik smiled but stayed close to Rachel with his hand straying to her elbow in a silent, but gentle permission to speak with her. Richard merely rolled his eyes.

"Just ask, Erik." He drawled. "I think that'd be best. We all know here, if I may be so bold in saying so."

Rachel looked around at everyone in confusion. Lark smothered a laugh and attempted to look solemn. Erik scowled, muttering something about wanting it to be special. His soon to be bride, however, looked very lost and stared now at the masked man beside her.

"What do you all mean?" she asked suspiciously, "What are you planning?"

She sent a glare at her brother who merely smirked and left the room to let Erik explain to her in the best way possible. To his relief, no one stopped him. He would need to be alone for a moment. Inside Richard knew, as over-dramatic as it would be once Erik asked her for her hand, he as a brother would not be able to stand the happiness in her face. Not when he himself would be lonely the rest of his life. To no one's surprise, except possibly Erik himself, Rachel's shriek of joy could be heard through out the house. A thud told Richard that she could have either fainted or attacked Erik as she once was prone to do when surprised greatly. A short laugh escaped Richard and he disappeared into the parlor.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

For a few days afterwards, all the occupants could think or talk of was the thought of a wedding between two important people. So many details to be made, so many choices to go through, it baffled both the bride and the groom. They would be sitting side by side on the divan, pouring over ideas on hastily gathered paper, dismissing some they didn't like and thoughtfully viewing the other's choice in whatever the matter would be. A few hours later and it would be decided that it was to be a small wedding not meant for the public.

A simple service would be sufficed with a priest from the town church in their own backyard. The summer brought on the most wonderfully colorful of flowers in the fields and Rachel wished that it could be that they joined in on the scene. Erik, still dazed from actually being accepted, agreed willingly. If he could have her for his own wife he wouldn't have cared if they got married in the sea with all the fishes swimming around doing the conga. Of course, if he knew what the conga was and it was in his genre. They decided also that it'd be held in a week, not wanting to wait.

"We don't have as much time as others do," Rachel put lightly when Lark questioned her about the length of time away the wedding would occur. "And I don't like waiting." She added.

The week dragged after that, making it seem so much the longer of a wait than anything. Finally, with a priest's pocket bulging with money for payment and sworn secrecy of the ceremony due to Erik and his need for security from others, the wedding was complete. Rachel and Erik now would be legally husband and wife. No one minded the fact that the guest total equaled to five people for at attendance to such an event, the splendor and food afterwards were beyond comparison. The priest left early for whatever reason but the bride couldn't keep a sneaking suspicion that Erik scared him off away from her thoughts. But even so the small party was the best any of them have ever had.

Of course, when it ended Rachel and Erik did not stay but started to gather their things with Erik still trying to persuade his wife that she needn't do anything while still in her wedding gown. Richard helped them pack their things silently, his face showing whatever emotion called for. His sister and brother-in-law would be gone for two months at the most leaving Richard in charge of everything behind. It all seemed to go so fast. One moment he saw himself helping Erik with a particularly large piece of luggage and the next Rachel was hugging him as hard as she could, tears in her eyes.

"It won't be very long, but do try to be good," she told him severely through teary eyes.

Richard rolled his eyes and sighed.

"We'll be fine," Lark piped up with a smile. "I'll take good care of everything!"

It made the new bride smile as well. With a few more good-bye hugs and kisses, the new couple was off in the distance with Lark and Richard waving goodbye.

"Just you and me now, huh Rich?" Lark said quietly, eyes closed. "Two months without Erik or Rachel…"

She looked like she would cry, but not a single tear fell. Richard stood respectfully and quietly a ways from her, staring after the long gone carriage. They stood there for merely a moment before Lark spoke again while turning her back to the horizon where her guardian and friend disappeared over.

"However will we survive?" she sighed.

* * *

**Sorry it took so long. DX I can actually get back to writing normally now, so no worries!!**


	38. Notice!

**I'm so sorry, guys for taking so long in updating. I am still working on it, of course, and I won't stop until it's finished. But I've run into some trouble as amature writers do... Technically I should know what is to happen throughout the story but it seems that I have fallen into a bit of a smug in my creativeness. DX **

**I would like to request personal opinions on what should now take place in my story. Overall, I know what'll happen and the end is always in mind. I just would like some inside scenes that would be fast and interesting for you all. Mind dead and I'm a terrible writer, but I think it would be really helpful if I could hear other ideas besides my own noggin for a change.**


	39. 38

**Okay! We are back on track! Thanks for the help, guys, I dunno what happened to my brain back there. I hope this is to your satisfaction and I hope I can update really, really soon since I know how I'm going to piece this all together!**

**DISCLAIMER: ...Really, do you think I'm awesome enough to own Phantom? (tear)**

* * *

**Part Thirty-eight:**

If one could give a human example of awkwardness or tension, Lark and Richard would be the first runners up for the first two days of being alone together without the reassuring presences of their other companions. With less of the loud voice of his sister, Richard found the house ominously silent. It didn't help either that Lark somehow developed a way of walking around in dead silence. A skill, she once mentioned, that cost her much of her time to learn. Now he felt the need to look about him or past the next corner whenever he walked around the house in case he might run into her by accident. Again.

At first, the single beginning hour went as well as expected with both of them becoming like hermits and closing themselves up into their own rooms. Then came the time when one gets hungry and no one knows how to cook.

"Richard!" Lark whined through his door. He glanced up from the bed on which he had been relaxing on but ignored her. She probably just wanted to start something for all he knew, Lark still didn't like him. "Richard!" she whined even louder, banging on his door impatiently. "I'm starving! You still have to feed me, you know! And don't think you can pretend not to hear me, I know you're awake."

It would be only after she threatened to walk down and try to find Thomas did Richard bound out of bed and open the door, glaring. She smirked but said not a word until they both got settled in the kitchen with Richard trying not to burn down the house with the stove.

"I'll be very frank with you, Rich, since we're stuck here." Lark said conversationally. "You and I both know we won't be able to get along very well unless there are other people around. Yes, I see your face! You know it's true. But that's not the point."

Lark rested her head on her hands, her blank eyes fixed on the small of Richard's back.

"I want to see Thomas." She said firmly.

Within two seconds he turned around to reply sharply but the young woman hastily cut him off. "I don't care if you tell anymore," she said angrily, "but so help me, Rich you can't keep me from having a social life!"

"You may speak to anyone but him," Richard flared, "I won't keep you from talking to the rest of the human race! Don't shake your head at me, either. I am in charge here and I won't hear any more of it."

Later into the night the fight got worse and in the end Lark burst into angry tears and ran from him. White-faced, he mutely watched her leave. He still smoldered in anger on the outside about the whole affair but on the inside he seemed to cry. He loved her still and he couldn't let go. Not for that boy. It would be so easy, though, to just let her go and go off to having things become normal. Maybe one day… No. Richard pushed it from his mind and thus ended the first day.

Of course, Lark wasn't going to leave it at that with no benefit to her and her far off sweetheart. The next morning, too early for Richard to be awake or anyone for that matter, she set off out of the house herself only to find her hopelessly lost and stranded near the road until Richard, woken into a panic, came out to fetch her. She didn't try it again. Not that there wouldn't be other ways to be reunited with Thomas. She knew that he, too would try to see her again. Day two passed without conflict besides her escapee stunt that morning.

It would become too much for Richard to handle anymore. Threatened with the fact Lark would do almost anything, he watched her mutely as she scavenged the kitchen for a decent meal the next morning. Nothing would change if he merely sat there and sulked. And if Richard knew himself well enough, the one thing he hated the most was nothingness. He drummed his fingers on the table impatiently as Lark took her time in sitting down. She held a bright orange in her hand as usual but peeled it rather savagely before her friend.

He coughed slightly but she didn't look up.

"Lark," he said with his mouth running dry, "I want to tell you something."

"There's nothing to talk about, Richard." She said shortly. "You've already said what you need to say."

She took a bite of her orange, assuming he would get angry or silent again and leave. It would not be so. Not a bat of the eye did she do when she heard his chair being pushed back and he stood. But instead of his footsteps disappearing around the corner they came around the table and settled behind her. His hands lay gently on her shoulders and his breath tickled her cheek as he repeated softly in her ear: "I want to tell you something."

For the first time in her life, Lark felt uncomfortable with him near her. She rose to her feet and pushed away his hand as it attempted to guide her from the table.

"What are you talking about?" she asked him, trying to sound as cold as possible though her heart pounded. If she did, he might lose his confidence and back off, like all the other times. His feet came closer until she felt that if she leaned her head forward slightly, her nose would brush his shirt.

"Please, I just want to tell you…tell you…" he seemed to be cutting off slightly.

She remained silent but took a casual step away and out of the kitchen, not wanting to be so close to him.

"Lark, wait." Richard said, both exasperated and desperate, following her. "Just listen for one moment… that's all I want, promise."

She spun around to face him, her face tense and for the first time filled with slight fear. He held out his hands as if she could sense that he meant no harm, his heart speeding up at the mere sight of her as usual. Three words he would have to speak, he knew it. Anything that stayed in place for too long would go sour and fade, persuading the man to take this jump forward.

"Do you know how much you mean to me?" he asked her softly.

Her face filled with confusion at the question but she didn't move or speak. Richard took another step closer. _I love you_. Right there at the tip of his tongue. Who cared for Lark like he did? _I love you_. Who watched over her all those years and made sure she had someone there? _I love you_. It all spun in his mind. There couldn't be any reason of why she would not return his feelings, surely. Not after all he had done for her and for all the times he had been with her and cared for her.

Somehow he came right up to her and peered into that confused, innocent, beautiful little face.

"I don't understand, Rich," she started, starting to look very nervous indeed.

His mind was blank and all thought on future consequences were gone for the moment. He took her hands, her little sweet hands and brought them up to his chest. The feelings inside him raged, demanding to be let out. It couldn't be suppressed. If not now, when…?

"I love you."

* * *

**I'm just happy I could actually get this going. Next will be the love birds...maybe... (ninja)**


	40. 39

**Sorry sorry for the delay! Summer! Bah! Worst time for me to work cause actually summer is my busiest time. -.- ANYWAYS, sorry for the delay. I was kind of stuck. I knew what I wanted but I couldn't get it into words until I was actually in the "mode". No, not "mood", "mode". XD Well, thank you for all the reviews and I hope no interest was lost!!**

**DISCLAIMER: No Phantom ownage goes to Haleybob. **

* * *

**Part Thirty-nine:**

A carriage bounced and jolted slightly in the warm air, an aura of pure joy seemingly seeping out of it. The new couple, and most unlikely one at that, talked comfortably all through the trip until the Bair house came into view. It wasn't England, or an extravagant getaway, but it would suffice and provide the wedded ones with the privacy and comfort they wished for. As the carriage stopped, Erik lightly stepped down, helping his wife with the care one would usually use for a large glass vase. Rachel smiled, lovely as ever and glanced up at her own house.

"It isn't much," she said, "but it will be enough, don't you think?"

A slight smile twitched behind the mask.

"I wouldn't care if it was a dungeon so long as you were along." He replied.

She laughed lightly and kissed the mask while tucking his arm around hers as they walked up the stairs. The sunlight streamed on, highlighting their joy. It was hard to imagine this same house covered with snow.

"That's very sweet, but you know you would mind if it was a dungeon." She teased lightly.

They made their way inside rather quickly than most in a subconscious effort to conceal Erik and Rachel's return to any nosy or prodding neighbors. The comfort of being behind solid walls and hazy glass calmed them and at first they only stood in the hallway grinning at each other. They had done it. A successful marriage between two people who have never been in any type of relationship before in their lives. Or at least, one that hadn't lasted so long as this.

A hesitant step brought the man closer to his new wife and he reached out to touch her face. _Mine._ She stood still, smiling up at him and gave him what he wanted: a kiss. He briefly wrapped his arms about her in euphoria. He could taste her on his own lips and feel her in his own arms, so warm and soft. _All mine._ Now Erik was like any other man with a wife and she was all his just as much as he was all hers. And she would not die! No one could word his bliss.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The echo of the spoken words seemed to ring in the air, a heavy statement. Lark's blank, hazy eyes were wide open, seeing nothing. She seemed to be finding what to say. Richard just waited with baited breath. However the girl looked bemused and shook her head disbelievingly.

"I love you too, Rich," she said slowly, "You're my brother, after all."

It was Richard's turn to shake his head and he clasped her little hands tighter to him, silently blessing them and her.

"I love you much more than that," He whispered, "don't pretend you don't understand, Lark, please."

She looked frightened and pushed him away quickly, taking several steps back. It wretched his heart to see her so helpless in a situation. She usually was so strong and bold. Richard took a step forward and reached for her hands again, trusting she would not move away. She seemed to be petrified to the spot.

"Why?" she murmured with those wide, milky eyes. "Why would you say that…?"

She kept her hands closely pinned to her chest and almost shrank from his gentle touch. She could hear her friend's hidden grief in his words when he spoke to her. That rocking, aching sound of a person finally releasing what had been constrained.

"I can't stop it any longer and I'm sorry it grieves you," Richard's voice was hurt and it was almost as if he was dying before her. "Don't you think I would have stopped the feelings if I could?"

Lark turned to run away but he kneeled down and seized her dress, his hands moving to her hands again once she was stopped. Her frame trembled. He rubbed her wrists with his thumbs and stared up at her sadly. He doubted that she would have met his eyes had her own been normal and not struck with the blindness she carried.

"Why are you afraid of me?" he whispered brokenly.

She looked straight ahead, her mind in a whirlwind. This couldn't be. Her brother loved her? Real love and not the love of a family member not truly blood related? Her mind raced to find a reason why his feelings had changed so suddenly. She jumped at his touch and for once was very glad she could not see his face. However, Lark's voice refused to come and she was forced to shake her head, wanting to disappear.

He stood abruptly and brought up her hands he still had captured in his to his face. Her shaking fingers barely brushed his skin as he held them there.

"Can't you feel how I look? How miserable I am?" he continued to whisper, closing his eyes. "Couldn't you sense how I felt?"

She tried to pull away, not wanting her hands to find out how sad his face looked. This isn't what was supposed to happen she told herself. This would be a dream. And yet… how angry he got, far past older brother rage with Thomas. The way he would talk to her sometimes was warmer if possible and he did not beg forgiveness like he did so long ago when she was very small. She jerked out of her thoughts when Richard's lips pressed against her palms.

"Don't," she said, jerking her hands away suddenly. "I can't deny your…your feelings but it is not gentlemanly to be so forward!"

Richard would have looked like he had been slapped if she could have gotten her sight back at that moment. She took careful steps backwards once again but maintained a firm voice. She would let him down carefully. It would not be possible in Heaven or on Earth that he could love one such as her. Not to Lark. It would not be let into reality.

"Rich, I can't love you," she said softly, using her nickname for him to soften the blow. "I don't. Not that way. I cannot be the one you want, surely. You could do so much better than I."

Anger crossed Richard's face and he released her hands, towering over her. Fire raged in him and his heart groaned as she didn't believe in him. In frustration he circled her like a lion with its prey. She knew nothing of what she spoke of and he would be quick to correct her.

"How do you know what a heart wants?" he asked her harshly, offended that she would try to lead him away from the feelings that had taunted him for so long. "How can you tell me what and whom I love?"

Lark turned her face towards the ground, the hairs rising on the back of her neck as he would pass. He repeated his words and they were bullets to her head. It was true she did not know his feelings, but hers would never match his. She didn't wish them to. To do anything to lead him on would destroy whatever friendship they might still hold. In a final, unsure answer she shrugged helplessly. A slight triumph went over him but it found no satisfaction in him whatsoever and with remorse Richard brought Lark back close to him.

If he could not have her love now, surely he could do something to coax it into existence. He just would have to bait her, plan something to let her know that he, Richard, is the only one who will stand by her. Already he had planted seeds of doubt in the boy she claimed to love. Thomas, no matter how much he loved her, the doubt would be there. Richard would be counting on that doubt. The doubt, and the plan he formed barely on the tip of his mind for his own Lark. Precious, wonderful, loving Lark. He would do anything. Blank-faced, Richard held the stunned Lark in his arms, pressing his lips to the top of her fair head.

"What would you give me to have me disappear?" he whispered into her hair as she squirmed uncomfortably. "I can turn this back to how it always was. As if nothing. Ever. Happened... What would you do?"

* * *

**Sorry again for the delay. I might be able to update tonight if I'm lucky!**


	41. Chapter 40

**Summer! How I curse and love it! Sorry, sorry for the delay, I got dragged into a 2 week trip to Colorado and with no computer, couldn't make a note or update to you all. Indeed, I'm going to be gone tommorrow for another week at camp SO I made sure to update NOW so you have something 'till I get back! Sorry sorry again. Summer is not a good time for me to work since my folks and friends refuse to let me have my own time...**

**DISCLAIMER: Phantom isn't mine. Heck, my life isn't mine, either!!**

* * *

**Part Forty:**

Lark's blank eyes widened and her heart pounded hard on her ribcage as if desperate to be free. Surely nothing she could want more at this point was to reverse this all. Lark didn't dare look up to Richard's face but reluctantly opened her mouth.

"Richard," she whispered, "Please, Richard, this isn't a game. I just want everything back to normal, please."

He waited patiently for his answer but allowed her to walk away, releasing his hold on her. Lark took the chance to distance herself from him and wandered listlessly from him her head feeling light as a cloud and her heart heavy as a stone.

Richard followed his love interest calmly, though his own heart raced and pounded mercilessly. With movements unsure Lark slowly made her way to the kitchen, running her hands against the familiar wall in some sort of comfort in this unknown situation.

The papered walls stood sturdy while her own support was quickly failing. Once counting the correct number of steps to the open kitchen, she grasped for a chair and sat down hard. The girl pressed her hands to her head.

"What do you want?" she asked hopelessly. "I- you know I cannot…I don't have anything."

A sad look came over Richard and he walked around the chair to face her. She would not raise her head towards him and averted her face all together. She didn't know what to do anymore. It was all too fast for her and Lark feared she would not be able to keep up without breaking. For once, Richard looked rather alarmed as a new thought cropped up in that overheated head.

"Do you think I would hurt you?" Richard exclaimed, eyes narrowing, kneeling down more to her level. "Do you believe I would do something to harm you in any way?"

The golden head shook back and forth but still would not face him. He knelt there with unreadable eyes, staring at her. Slowly he reached out and brought up her chin level to his face. Physically the girl was shaking and her useless eyes protected by her closed lids as if that alone would make the scene disappear.

A poor, broken bird cornered by an unusually caring cat.

Gently Richard cupped her small face in his hands trying to calm her. He could not stand it if she would be frightened of him.

"Trust me," he whispered.

Like a trapped creature, Lark could not be calmed and only shook her head with another shudder. Feeling of irritation and remorse filled the man and he stood saying: "You are afraid of me!" and turned from her in despair.

Even in her harried and trembling state Lark could not bear to sense a friend in pain. He still, in her heart, was her brother, her friend, a loyal companion that never turned against her. In compassion and a start of fear that he would now turn and stay away from her she stood abruptly, reaching out with those shaking hands as if to draw him close once more by the mere action.

"Please," she begged, "I am not afraid of you! But it is all so…so new. Your feelings startle me!" she tried to explain, raising her hands in a desperate manner. She found him mute to her calls and with another twinge of fear it would now be the girl confronting the man.

"I don't want to hurt you," she whispered, finding and clinging to his hand. "And you know I don't. I'm- I'm sure you don't want to hurt me, either. Can't this go away?"

"I cannot win your affections," Richard said sharply, startling her. "Why bother trying to go back? I shall not! Not back into that silence. Curse it! Curse that silence I had to forbear, and watching you grow so much, and with that boy!"

Rage filled him but it didn't direct itself to Lark though she shivered, unused to this side of her dear, once brotherly friend. Angry as he was, the timid mouse did not stir from his side but clasped his hand all the more.

"How can I help you?" she whispered, feeling tears prick her darkened eyes. "I-...your feelings I cannot, cannot return, but I can't help feeling that there might be some way not to hurt you."

In a dramatized way Richard exclaimed that there could not be a balm for this wound. His fingers gently released themselves of her small grasp and he stood away from her, hating himself but all the more wanting to make it all work.

Lark, white-faced and terrified felt like a monster. How dull she must have been to have her dear friend's affections pass ignored! Surely if she interpreted them earlier, the bud would have been nipped in the end.

But no, like a wild abandoned garden, Richard's feelings had grown without restraint or clipping and now had made a terrible, terrible tangle.

"Oh please let me be able to help you!" she cried out desperately and in finding his hands again, kissed them in a helpless manner. "My feelings are for Thomas as you have found but I cannot leave you to hurt so much! Not when I caused it. Never, ever."

Touched but silent Richard regarded her broodingly and with a glance towards the window remarked in a strange voice.

"There could be a way to ease it all, to ease me down as you would like."

Eyes full of tears Lark turned her face towards his voice and cocked her head in a questioning manner. When he did not speak she begged for the way and promised she would fulfill it in the best way possible.

"It is a little thing," the man remarked, taking back one of his hands to cup her chin in it. "Would not harm you nor I but, I think, we should both benefit…"

"What? Please, please, Richard tell me!" the girl begged, forgetting the feelings of being overwhelmed by his touch, his hold on her.

"Do you trust me?" he breathed, leaning in towards her tortured face.

A slight hesitation but then a determined, brave little voice: "With all my soul!"

Both hearts pounded and the man drew up her little hands to his chest and with barely a whisper, his voice tickling her sweet innocent face:

"Then kiss me."

What that would prove to him Lark didn't know. Doubtless that Richard himself knew why he would ask with such forwardness a prize of that kind. But with the courage of a lioness and with little thought (for surely she would have backed out if she had the time to think it through) and with trembling lips she boldly drew up her hands to his face. His eyes closed as her tender fingers ran lightly over his features she knew so well. In finding his lips and with a deep breath that would satisfy a sea diver she then pressed her own lips against his and kissed him with an innocent mouth.

Vaguely she could feel his own mouth beneath hers smile and a trickle of warning filled her though she did not know why at the time. For, unbeknownst to the young girl, a horrified, young, and tortured face had disappeared from the kitchen window, seen only by the lovesick desperado named Richard.

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**Blah, summer. Strange stuff it is. Adieu till I come back!**


	42. Chapter 41

**Greetings all! Sorry for the delay. Had camp and whatnot and seriously, summer is my busiest time of the year. XP Anyways, sorry for leaving you all hanging, I HAS AN UPDATE! ...And hopefully it's better than my grammer.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Phantom. I don't really own much. Sad day! **

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**Part Forty-one:**

As soon as the deed was done, Richard disappeared from the room leaving Lark confused and bewildered. Shakily she sunk to the floor, feeling faintly the vibrations of the man's footsteps retreat farther and farther until a door slammed. Her hand found its way to her mouth and she trembled. It seemed so intense in the moment but now that he left and it ended Lark felt more miserable and befuddled then ever. Could it be that he lied to her about fixing everything? She shook her head sadly, not even bearing to think about it. The thought of Thomas bugged her and she felt almost contaminated by her own decision. Surely she didn't betray him if kissing Richard was out of helping him. Raising herself to her feet she trudged desolately to her room, closed the door, and wept bitterly on her bed.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The next days seemed a blur to Lark but Richard made neither comment nor sign that anything odd had happened between them. Instantly he would turn a deaf ear if she attempted to even mention any of the day. It bewildered her but she didn't feel at all shoved away. Indeed he seemed more kind and agreeable now though she was sure he still watched her carefully. To test her theory if he was back into his senses she pleaded one morning to go see Thomas.

If blindness had not been with her she would have seen slight annoyance and anger flaring in his eyes. But to her surprised ears, calmly he agreed and even offered to walk her there.

"I'm sure he will be very glad to see you," Richard said softly with a secret smile as the sun beat down on the backs of them.

Lark hung her head and hoped that Thomas would be. The road, too her surprise, seemed a bit longer than anyone had really said it was. Though, Thomas had sworn, whenever he visited her in the past, that he practically flew he needed to get to her own home so fast. He must have been running, she pondered. She barely felt Richard's gentle hand on her shoulder, guiding her and didn't even blink as he squeezed it to let her know they arrived.

"I will situate you with your Thomas before I leave," her companion said. She heard his sarcasm but didn't remark on it for fear of being led away.

"Thank you, Richard," she said simply. He grunted.

Thankfully instead of Thomas's rather eccentric mother, it was his father that was the one who opened the door as they reached the large house's doorway. Richard stood with authority and chatted briefly with the large man before Lark grew impatient and asked timidly for the man's son. His thick eyebrows rose but instead of asking anything from the fragile looking girl he yelled for his son over his shoulder.

"He's been in his room mostly," the man said gruffly, "but he'll be down in a momen'." With a curt nod to Richard and a clumsy bow that went unseen by Lark, he disappeared into the house leaving the two on the porch, waiting patiently. Suddenly Richard's arm twisted itself around Lark's waist and before she could say a word, footsteps told her that Thomas arrived.

"Hullo," Thomas announced himself sullenly, leaning against the doorframe.

"Thomas!" Lark said his name in relief and attempted to walk forward. The arm tightened ever so slightly and in annoyance, she moved not a smidgen closer though she leaned her face earnestly towards him. "Oh, it's so wonderful to hear you again. You remember my…my…" she hesitated. "You remember Richard?"

"Hello, Thomas," Richard said politely, a cold smile stealing its way across his face.

"I remember him," the boy's reply was short and clipped, leaving Lark to be silent in her confusion. Richard looked between them both and coolly regarded Thomas's unhidden, hating glare with infuriating tranquility.

"I think I'll leave you two be," Richard remarked lightly with a possessive final last squeeze around Lark that did not pass unnoticed by the younger man.

Smirking once and giving a farewell he slipped off down the road with a slight spring in his step. Lark, blushing embarrassingly for Richard's actions, fidgeted in the silence.

"Do you want to walk around..?" she offered.

"If you wish," Thomas said bluntly, though there was a slight decrease in coolness.

Lark stood still until Thomas offered his arm; she did not know his yard whatsoever. They walked in silence a little ways, more off towards the barn as the boy explained when she asked. She felt bewildered at his changed attitude towards her and only got simple but sharp answers from him whenever she asked a question. It hurt her but she made no comment. It was too hot to stay in the scorching summer sun.

Thomas led them both inside his barn where the air would be much cooler. A few snorts and pawing of the rough, straw scattered floor told Lark's ears that a horse or two would be their overseers as Thomas led them past. A hiss and steady whir also proclaimed that Thomas required a little bit of light in the slightly dark barn corner where he sat her down.

"I used to have horses," Lark tried vainly for normal conversation. He made no response. "Do- do you have one or two?" she asked timidly, intimidated by his silence.

"Two," he grunted and settled his lamp down on a wooden ledge, flinging himself on another stack of tightly packed hay. Another moment of awkward silence passed with only a few friendly nickering of the large animals with them.

"I missed you," she whispered.

She started when he stood up suddenly, crunching the ground hard with his thick boots.

"Did you?" he asked harshly, "or are you just saying that to deceive me?"

Her mouth fell open.

"Thomas- what? I would never deceive yo-..!"

"Then what is with that Richard bloke?"

Anger licked the insides of Thomas. He thought he could vanquish his doubts as soon as she saw Lark but that man… His fists shook. That man with her whom she couldn't even _introduce correctly _stood there with his stupid smirk and holding onto Lark like he owned her! Now she sat before him and tried to convince that she missed Thomas?

"Wouldn't you deceive me?" he almost shouted. "I saw you! You both! You!"

He loved her so much, and she deceived him. He thought Richard lied to him, but she went behind his back. She once said she loved him, but not once had she ever kissed him. Why, then, would she kiss Richard? A man older than he, yes, but no less one she said was like a brother!

Lark looked like he had slapped her.

"I-I don't understand, Thomas what are you-…?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about! You kissed him!" Thomas burst out jealousy. "You kissed Richard!"

Her face whitened to that of a ghost's complexion and her jaw dropped, those lovely green eyes widened to the size of small tea saucers. She opened her mouth but closed it. She couldn't speak.

"Thomas," she begun weakly, "You don't understand…"

"What's not to understand?" Thomas grasped his hair in both his hands, agonized. He paced furiously before her and she flinched each time he passed as if he would strike her.

"There's nothing to explain! God, Lark! You kissed the man! There's no other reason for it than that you love him!"

Lark's face showed every sign of remorse and pain as she stood and reached out blind hands.

"Oh, Thomas, I do love him but not in the way you think! Please, I still lo-.."

"Don't!" he said going white.

She fell silent immediately, tears now freeing themselves from her eyes to run down her youthful cheeks.

"Please." She begged, finding her way to him, stretching out to touch his face. He swatted her hand away.

"So," Thomas broke out, leering into her broken face. "So, you kiss your brother but not your sweetheart? Should I be your brother too so I can get some benefits of my own?"

A smack resounded in the barn as Lark, white-faced and forgetting her grief for an instant wildly swung out and slapped him. Breathing hard she shook her head, tears reflowing.

"I'm sorry."

Thomas stared at her miserably, one side of his face bright red. "You had a choice, Lark. And you chose Richard."

Without another word, he left the barn leaving Lark in the darkness of her despair with a light she couldn't even see.

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**Buuuuut I left you with a cliffie anyways! Muwaha. Well...sorta. Will update soon!**


	43. Chapter 42

**Right-o! You've all no idea how long I've waited to update for you all. ...Or maybe you do, I haven't the foggiest. Anyways, now I'm back home and I won't be leaving any more this summer so YAY I can WRITE again! Here's your update, sorry for the long, suspended cliffy.**

**DISCLAIMER: Not the owner of Phantom, sorry. You'll have to take it up to Leroux if you want Erik.**

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**Part Forty-two:**

"But I didn't choose him!" Lark cried out after him long after he had gone. "I didn't! You don't understand!"

She didn't expect an answer and did not receive one. Her hands dropped to her sides. She was now alone and with no one to comfort her as there was always been in the past. Never a day, before her Mama died, there would be if she was unhappy there wouldn't be someone to cheer her up. With her tears drying on her cheeks she sat back down miserably, cupping her head in her hands. If anything, perhaps she would be forgiven if she kissed Thomas if he came back for her. Then, with a start, the girl realized she knew nothing about the barn. She would have to stay until he came back if ever.

"Now look what you've done, Lark," she scolded herself sadly, "Got into quite the mess. Now everyone's mad. And Erik won't be back for another week!"

The thought struck her so hard and it was several minutes before she could regain her composure. Strongly she wished she never wanted Erik and Rachel to leave. She knew it would be a selfish wish, but also she believed none of this would have happened if Erik was around to take care of her.

"He's not here for you, though," she whispered again to herself, filling in the silence void of another human voice with her own. "He wouldn't be able to solve this, anyways."

Wiping her eyes off she sighed heavily, her chest aching. In no hurry to get up and look for the exit, she jumped when the horses somewhere off to her left snorted and stamped with sudden agitation. Lark had not grown up close with the few horses she once owned but in her life seen enough of stables to know it would be better if she calmed them. Squeals from one of them made her jump up and start off hurriedly in their direction. Something caught her elbow, however and with a cut off curse she learned from Erik the lantern fell with a heavy thud. The thick oil trapped inside split open and spilled with a tiny whoosh of little, hungry flames.

A worried nicker from the horses covered the noise well enough that the girl did not recognize the sound and she did not turn to it. Without another thought of the thud she did hear, Lark crunched forward noisily until a soft velvet nose met her hand. Absorbed in stroking the large animal to peace, the ominous crackling of fire on dry straw and wood evaded her sensitive ears until the other horse reared and snorted with fright. With surprise, she twisted around to reach for the other to settle it but it would not be settled and bucked violently as the small flames grew with alarming speed. As the flames met the damp wood of a trough, smoke ascended from it and quickly filled the small barn with its smothering odor. In no time it reached the girl's nose and in shock, she quickly filled her lungs with the stench.

"F-fire!" Lark choked out, adrenaline making its way through her veins. "Fire! Fire!"

The horses stamped wildly and she now heard all too clearly the sickeningly familiar noise of the burning flames. Terrified, Lark turned to the stall in front of her and attempted to grasp the door of it to free the horses. She could feel the now near heat through her dress and she pulled away sharply, grabbing fistfuls of her skirts so as to not let the flames she could not see creep towards it.

The horses now screamed and bucked together, unable to free themselves of their well latched stalls. Smoke clogged her lungs now but with a determined, frightened face she felt for the latch once again that held the first horse. With a little help and a strong but unaided kick from the frightened creature Lark backed off quickly as the horse, squealing and rearing with fear bolted away.

The doors of the barn opened with a large crash as the large beast burst through but the girl felt her way to the other stall in panic, yelling 'fire' as loud as she could. Flames licked up the dry straw along the ground and the wood of the support beams creaked and moaned with the orange-yellow arms eating it thinner. After weeks and weeks of drying, the whole barn had become a perfect, dangerous meal for any small flicker of a flame. Coughing Lark found the other stall with aid of the panicked squeals of the other horse. The edges of the latch cut her hands as she tried to release it while pausing to cover her mouth, coughing violently. She could hear everything in such larger intensity she felt even more overwhelmed with the extra heat, smoke, and pressured time.

"Fire!" she yelled helplessly, clawing at the latch, forgetting how the other worked open.

Faintly she could hear shouts from outside but Lark could guess they would not come in time for both girl and horse. The poor horse stamped and bucked and squealed loudly, making her leap back in fear of losing her head to the flying hooves.

"Steady!" she cried out, finding the latch.

She pressed herself against the door as a sharp snap told her something fell from the top. A hayloft perhaps but that didn't matter to her. Sparks flew about her and exhaustion threatened her, she feared her legs would crumble beneath her. No! Lark wouldn't give in and with more strength than she possessed, the latch yielded to her and sprang open, unleashing the half-crazed horse. But it turned to be no use and Lark did not jump out of the horse's way in time.

A wild hoof flew through the air and landed a brutally harsh kick to her temple, knocking her violently out of the way as the horse careened out of the barn in a mad rush. A small, gasp left her breathless and, her fogged eyes rolling up into her head, the girl crumpled to the burning ground beneath her. She did not hear the screams of Thomas and his family now fully audible from outside. She did not feel the blood dripping down the side of her face where the hoof made its final impression or the flames licking her sides and bare hands. She felt, touched, and heard nothing as the cool darkness of unconsciousness claimed her in its merciless hold with no impression of letting her go.

Not even Erik's angel voice could have made itself heard to her now.

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**Just so you all know, I love writing dramas. It DOES work out in the end! ...I think. **


	44. Chapter 43

**Updated and ready to roll! Sorry for the delay and thank you all for the reviews!!**

**DISCLAIMER: Phantom isn't mine, but the writing is. **

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**Part Forty-three:**

Panic was the main drive for the poor owners of the burning barn but pure terror would be the controller of Thomas as they all raced out. They reached the smoldering building just in time and the enraged father bellowed as his only son darted in the flames only to stare in amazement as the boy dragged out a small, slightly charred figure.

"Don't die on me, Lark!" the boy panted as he pulled both of them to safety, "Don't you dare!"

His mother, shawls waving wildly, helped him wordlessly to bring in the young woman to safety in the house. The fire at the moment would be contained by Thomas's father as it had luckily not spread to the outside just yet. Quickly the girl was set on the divan and the older woman raced about for anything that would help. Thomas still needed to relinquish his hold on her as he kneeled by her side. Her eyes did not open and her breathing was shallow. Her hands, unfortunately, burnt in the flames as well as her dress to her legs making it difficult to tell flesh from material. A few salty drops fell on her hand closest to Thomas as he brushed against them, bending his head to hide his weakness.

Suddenly a croaking, weak voice made itself breathe out, barely heard. "Don't….tell Erik…"

The young man's head snapped up and he quickly peered into Lark's face. It was still smudged and strained but try as he might he could not find any sign that she spoke at all. Did she? Thomas, lost in his own thoughts, jumped when he heard other footsteps.

"Help your father." His mother snapped, stepping back into the room with bandages and balms. "Now!"

"Mother, it was my fault she was in there…" the boy began, standing.

"It's going to be your fault, too if you disobey me and your father does all the work!" the woman jammed her way past her son and knelt, examining the burnt hands expertly. "Go, now and don't come back until that retched fire's out!"

His fists clenched together in rebellion, but a glance at his mother's glare he rushed out. It was his entire fault! How could he be so stupid as to think Lark would have been okay left all alone? His accusations against her seemed silly and childish now as he raced back to the flames. She tried to explain something to him before he left. Perhaps he should have given her a chance. Perhaps it would be too late to ever hear anything she would have to say to him. He shook his head. Impossible! He would apologize as soon as he fixed everything, and she would be there to hear it as well.

Following his father's shouted directions, Thomas put all his energy into defeating the blaze and cursing himself bitterly for the cost his thickheaded self made. If he lost her…somehow he couldn't really believe he would find himself if that happened.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Thomas kicked angrily at the wall then grabbed his foot in pain, swearing under his breath. Right after the fire had been diminished, a doctor had been called. His mother could not do anything to revive the young woman and the need for an even higher expertise was called for immediately. Ordered by the elderly doctor himself to stay out of the extra room where Lark would be cared for, Thomas paced back and forth furiously. Waiting for any news of her condition felt like pure torture when he could not do anything for her. He wouldn't be the only one waiting for her, of course. His eyes slid to the pale face of the other man.

Thomas' father went out of his way to go and alert Richard about the accident and to assure that they would pay for any expenses of 'the little girl'. Even now, looking at the man hunched over in a chair kindly put out for him by Thomas' mother, the boy could not pity him. Richard had taken the news hard and rushed to Lark's room against the doctor's irritated protesting, panic written all over his features. All his color had fallen from his face and he needed to be helped to a chair he now sat on.

He hadn't moved since and his usually cheerful, or in Thomas' mind smug face seemed frozen in the picture of pure agony. He didn't even look up at the sound of Thomas' profuse swearing most boys his age shouldn't be allowed to know. Richard's gaze fixed on the floor, he breathed just as shallowly as Lark in the other room. Somehow, this infuriated Thomas more than Richard's smugness just a few hours before. How dare he be so weak now when Lark needed his strength and confidence the most? Moping around like he lost something he could never gain. He lost nothing and neither did Thomas. The boy stomped over and stood over the man in anger.

"Sir," he said sharply, "she isn't dead."

Richard's face rose to meet his, still a waxy sheet of white.

"I might as well have killed her," he whispered, his eyes burning with remorse. All that seemed to be left was a hollow shell of a man. "I-…she needn't have gotten hurt…"

Thomas showed no mercy.

"If you are trying to say it is your fault, sir, you would be correct," he told him coldly. "But that doesn't mean she won't heal! She needs you to be strong."

Richard shook his head, staring back down at the floor. Thomas felt like making him stand up so he could punch him properly, but it just felt wrong to hit a man so down in sorrow.

"I can't give her…any strength," Richard murmured. "She can't accept it from me."

A red haze came over Thomas as he seized the front of Richard's shirt, hoisting him to his level, eyes blaring. Richard didn't move to release himself but kept his eyes downcast as if he deserved it all. The younger man shook him fiercely and Richard flapped like a rag doll.

"What do you mean by this, 'she can't accept it' trash?" Thomas snarled in the pale face, "You are the closest person to her! She loves you! And you're just giving up like she's already dead!"

With his arm muscles bulging slightly under the weight he shook Richard again and threw him back in his chair, disgusted. The broken man didn't move but only stared off to the side, his face still twisted up in his own horror of himself. Breathing heavily Thomas jumped and whirled around sharply when the door leading to Lark clicked open. The doctor spoke softly to Thomas' mother behind him and turned to face the two men with a grim face. The young lad hurried to his side, the question of Lark's health on the tip of his tongue but held back by the doctor's raised hand. Richard did not jump up but turned his head slowly, suspicion and pain in every line of his face.

"She is very weak," the medic man said in his soft, almost leathery voice, "I doubt she will come to today if not at all. I can only keep her stabilized and we can only wait from there."

Thomas began to speak but again the doctor silenced him.

"I doubt she will die, but I'm afraid the stakes are rather against her than for her. The shock and no doubt the blow to her head caused her to slip in a coma. I don't know if she will waken." He bowed his head as the lady of the house led him to the door. He paused to look back at them all. "I'm sorry."

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**I'm going to be at a Band camp for two weeks, so updates might come a little slower since I'll probably be so dead tired to even blink for myself. Hope you're all enjoying the story!**


	45. Chapter 44

**Hello, hello! Updated as requested! Read! READ. ...Oh, and Band Camp is going brilliantly if anyone cared. xD **

**DISCLAIMER: Phantom isn't mine. Shush. It's a painful topic...**

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**Part Forty-four:**

"Thomas…"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Go away, Ma."

Thomas' mother paused at her son's door, one hand over her heart. He had taken the doctor's news hard but he refused strongly to the idea of calling for her foster father. 'Lark doesn't want it,' he said to them stubbornly. He would repeat the same answer if anyone attempted to try a different means of explaining the seriousness of the situation. The boy nearly went mad when his father tried to ask the statue of Richard who now seemed permanently unable to speak for himself. Now he lay with his back to the door on his bed, arms wrapped around his chest. Banished, to his room, for wanting to obey the momentarily last command of his only sweetheart.

But even when he followed Lark's request, the lad couldn't even visit the comatose woman without the feeling of wanting to break down by her side. What would be the point of that, when even Richard could not stand the sight of her? Thomas promised fervently to himself that moment that he would be the strong one for Lark. He didn't dare give up on her. Finally he heard his door close and he rolled back on his other side to stare out the window. The moon out his window sent off a mysterious aura as it rose into the slightly darkening sky, casting the square of dim light on his floor.

Perfect, thought Thomas grimly. The bright sunlight reminded him too much of the times he and Lark would go out and just enjoy being together. How he wanted to turn back time to rejoin in those happy moments. He punched his pillow absentmindedly and tried to empty his mind of those sweet memories. They would have more to remember, he told himself, he would have to believe in that. For now Thomas would wait. Wait, and pray that the Lark he loved would come back to him so they could make more memories again on those sunny days.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Far away from the house of Lark's mother, in the busy city of Paris where the Bair's house sat comfortably, Erik's eyes snapped open and a small gasp was released from his lipless mouth. Darkness met his slightly glowing eye sockets and he sat up, pressing a skeletal hand to his heart. A dark dream, a terrifying one with Lark at its center. A dying flower wrapped in the dark weeds of despair. Silently he removed himself from the bed he and his still sleeping wife shared, crossing the moonlit room to press an uncovered forehead to the cool glass.

Surely his 'daughter' was safe in the hands of Richard, even though he left them in an awkward and tense relationship. He did not fully trust Richard Bair, but Lark knew him from almost birth he could only guess, so his trust reached out to the other man through the young woman's own loving trust. Erik's eyes gazed listlessly over the darkened yard. His dream indeed startled him greatly, but he believed it only to be that. A frightening dream. He sighed to himself. His dreams never ever became reality in the past, so this one as well would pass on without life. Lark was surely safe.

Erik tapped on the glass briefly before turning his mind to more, calming happier things. His wife for example…a smile passed unseen in the dark. He read about wonderful things such as true companionship and had seen with his own eyes the beauty of the holy matrimony of a man and wife, but all was but a small speck of what happiness it surely brought to him!

To be able to have a wife, he the monster, of his very own to delight in and take care of and be with forever brought him intense bliss no other man unmarried could ever explain. He no longer was just 'Erik' but 'Rachel and Erik' both in unison. He was she and she was he. Erik shook his head. It would be confusing to sort out what he felt, but with his wife beside him, (what a word for him to use for himself!) he could do no wrong. Still…he tapped the glass again, his mind too far away in his own thoughts to notice two arms wrapping around him.

"Don't scare me like that," Rachel murmured from behind him, "I thought you were gone…"

"You know I wouldn't leave without saying something," Erik responded smoothly, resting his hands against her arms to turn himself around in her clinging embrace. "I had a nightmare. I apologize."

After a moment of prodding and questioning from his curious wife Erik relented and told her the dream. Rachel's eyes were reserved in the moonlight as she pondered for a moment. She knew the effects of the fear of a dream coming true and hugged her husband almost protectively.

"Do you want to go back, then?" she asked wistfully.

In truth, the woman didn't want to leave this little world of just them but if Erik needed it, she would. Rachel didn't think she ever felt happier than she did now, and the thought of leaving early caused her pain. They both knew they were up in their years and both understood they wouldn't have the longest time together as other couples usually did. It would be most important to be together for as much as possible in their minds. Her husband ran his fingers through her hair soothingly, thinking.

"No," told her finally. "It was only a dream. We have good people with her to watch over them, after all. Nothing has happened."

He said the last firmly, as if to convince both her and himself at the same time. If it had been another time besides their honeymoon, Rachel would have insisted they go back, on gut feeling, just to make sure everything at home would be fine. Instead her only felt slight guilt as she lay back down next to her husband in their bed. The cat glow of his eyes disappeared as Erik's eyelids shut and Rachel could suppress a shudder undetected.

Of course she loved him, very much, but most of the time his eyes would be open and the spark of life would dance in them and assure her. Now with him still and those golden windows closed, he took on the real appearance of a dead man. Even his breath seemed death-like and almost none existent. No woman, no matter how much in love they are with their husband, would want to sleep next to someone who looks like a dead corpse. And Erik didn't seem very much alive when he slept.

Rachel's fingers brushed the side of his face hesitantly and the eyes opened slightly to glow warmly at her, a small twisted smile forming on his face. She smiled back and closed her eyes before him, imprinting the living form of her husband in her mind for the night. She could count her blessing of Lark for softening Erik's temper now. The child turned the short-tempered, fiery man into something more reachable, more gentle though he wasn't soft in anyway that would be considered weak.

For often than not, she would awaken late in the night if they weren't already awake enjoying each other and have an uncontrollable urge to waken her husband, just to check. And every time, like now, he would smile and open his eyes for her and she could sleep peacefully again. Rachel never told Erik anything about this and she was sure never to look frightened or bothered when he was around her. It would hurt him too much and she refused to hurt him again.

As she scooted closer to her husband, her mind drifted towards his dream he talked about with such a worried look but she refused to believe anything was wrong. Nothing wrong could happen now, and the dream would be nothing but that. A dream.

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**I hate dreams that could be considered true. Also, I added Erik and Rachel to let you all know what they're up to and whatnot. Review...? **


	46. Chapter 45

**Aye yi yi! Sorry, sorry for the late update! What with the new year and with an unfortunate computer malfunction that caused all my data to be erased, I have found little time to write. BUT I have finished yet another chapter! It's getting close and I just want to thank you all for sticking with me and for helping me to improve!!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Phantom. No, I'm not going to write that 100 times over, no matter how many times I try to steal it.**

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Part Forty-five:

Only a few days passed after it was decided by Madame Peter and her husband that Lark would not be moved. In such a fragile condition, no one wanted to take the risk of harming the young woman more. She lay silently and peacefully in the extra bedroom, with Madame Peter darting in and out as her own cheerful nurse having studied slightly in medicine. She kept the room filled with sunshine and had even thought to bring a small glass with a bright sunflower in to sit on the side drawers next to Lark. It gave the room a more cheerful feeling, she explained.

Outside of the Madame's mood, the house felt like a funeral home with no more speech than what would be necessary. Thomas had the appearance and manner of a grim old man, his young face aged with grief. Richard seemed near comatose himself, showing little signs of life at all. Almost as a ghost, he lurked about Lark's room with the most remorseful face on their side of the earth.

Monsieur Peter, keen on the idea of keeping his family's income flowing in, continued to go to work. Thomas was grudgingly given leeway from his apprenticeship of his father for the sake of his traumatized state. Often he stood in Lark's room somberly, Richard as his equally despondent shadow. Of all of the depressed people in the household, Madame Peter could be counted on to keep everything cheerful. She talked to the unconscious girl as if she could hear her and told everyone that as soon as Lark woke up, she would serve her tea in the new grey-blue teapot her husband bought for her on her last birthday.

So confident in this feeling, she insisted that Richard stay with them instead of walking back and forth between houses to visit Lark. Ignoring her son's smoldering glare, she explained briefly that it was 'his sad eyes' that allured her to make the suggestion.

"The poor man is hurting just as much as you, Thomas," she said sharply when he came to complain of him again. "He has every right to see the little dear as you do."

After that, Thomas forced himself to ignore the presence of the mourning older man as he visited his sweetheart. The boy had gotten over his overwhelming guilt that kept him from approaching her before and now could sit right at her bedside, her limp hand in his. Softly he would speak of the old times they spent together in the sun, of the happier times. They would make new memories as soon as she woke up, he promised her. Then all would be well. But she would have to be awake first.

Richard observed him quietly, his face an emotionless mask. He never approached the bed as it did indeed seem that the corner of the small room would be his permanent home. Perhaps it was only his pride that kept him there, or the fact that he couldn't stop thinking that this would have never happened had he not acted selfishly. No, it wasn't just the thought; he_ knew_ it was because of his actions. Richard felt and knew he didn't even deserve to breathe the same air as Lark or even to be in that little room where she lay. Now to watch as the younger man talked to her and speak of better-off times they once shared, he felt even more wretched.

"How do you know if she will even wake?" he asked quietly, his lips barely moving.

The boy fell silent, not even bothering to turn towards Richard. Silently Thomas stewed in his irritation against Lark's so-called friend, the one that had hurt her beyond what he did. However he found it in himself to reply steadily:

"I don't know if she will, but I don't have to know for sure." He stated simply. "Lark will wake if she likes…"

The boy looked back down at the pale hand that nestled in his own, rubbing his thumb in circles over its surface. Hopefully she would want to wake…and hopefully soon. Like the flower that misses the sun through winter, he felt the need to lean on the hope she would return to the real world.

Behind him, Richard made an odd noise deep in his throat and paced back and forth before the door like an angry lion. With an amazing stolid manner, Thomas took this as something he need not respond to and he returned to speaking lightly to his fallen sweetheart. Richard watched him with an almost savage expression, then, the words nearly ripped from his throat he blurted out the words that had itched at his conscience.

"She truly did love you; I had lied to you about her."

If Thomas had expected the man to say anything to him, this would be far from what he would have believed to hear. Surprised, he turned to fully face Richard, observing the wretched, strained face. With a frown he echoed what had been said, but stated it in a question, confusion filling his thoughts.

Richard ground his teeth irritably, as though angry with himself for spilling such words out into the open. His arms crossed in an unconscious self-defense and with more emotion than he owned throughout the week, turned himself away from Thomas.

"I lied. You could have guessed, perhaps, but I lied!" Richard growled, trying his best to sound aloof and cold even though his sagging shoulders said otherwise. "Lark never loved me. Not in the way you thought she had."

Bewilderment crossed the younger man's face and he glanced once towards Lark. Although he still loved her and forgave her, the hurt from her betrayal still stung. He didn't understand what Richard was telling him. He might as well be saying the sky's true color would be orange. Richard sent a sharp look towards Thomas, taking in the silence as disbelief. His eyes narrowed dangerously and he kept his arms clasped about him, as if to keep his own personal grief in.

"I tricked her, if you are thinking of the scene you saw through our window," he hissed, letting it all out. "Was it right of me? I don't think so."

Richard swiveled his head back, looking towards the wall. A sigh leaked out from between his teeth but he did not speak until he felt absolutely sure that Thomas would not protest. Thomas, however puzzled he was did not speak and the man sighed again, continuing.

"I…I was jealous," he murmured, mostly to himself. "Jealous of how much Lark was happy when she was with you. Not me. I always made her upset somehow, always the side-parent."

He shook his head in regret, fingers clenching his sleeves. It shouldn't have turned out this way. He never planned for anything to happen but now… now it would be the only thing he could do to make things right between the young relationships he had willingly destroyed. Perhaps Lark could forgive him, if he confessed to the one she really loved exactly what Richard did.

"I first saw you two together at night, when Lark snuck out. You remember, I would believe," Richard said to his mute companion. "I felt a rage…a want to never let anyone become close to her but me. You were not worthy in my eyes, not at that time. She had nearly drowned in your hands."

He bowed his head and once again faced Thomas, raising his eyes to meet the others.

"But I also see that what I had wanted to protect," Richard whispered hopelessly, "was what I also warped and damn near destroyed. You did not destroy her, nor did she ever betray you. It was my own entire fault."

Closing his lips in a tight line the fiery pride re-entered Richard's eyes as he stood firmly before Thomas, refusing to bend down. The boy met the gaze with his own, still silent and processing what had been told.

"I will say this to you, Thomas: I will not ask you to forgive me," Richard said brazenly,  
"But…"

With a few strides he crossed the room and gently reached out to touch Lark's cheek in a sense of repentance.

"I will ask you this and this only, boy," he said so softly that Thomas had to lean in towards him to catch it, "You cannot take away your love from her. You must stay with her, and make her happy and protect her."

With another brush against the young woman's sweet face, the man turned away sharply and exited, only pausing at the door to look back. Thomas, his hand still clutching Lark's, stared back at him with his eyes wide. Richard glared darkly, bringing back the life into his hollow cheeks.

"I shall not forgive _you_ if you don't do this for her sake, Thomas Peter." He warned finally, slipping out.

Neither of them caught the slight curl of delicate fingers in the girl's hidden hand.

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**My hardheaded Richard. As much as I wanted to make him bend, I couldn't see it. Prideful (profanity)... Review me if you like what you read! ...Or if you don't, either way. Lemme know your thoughts!!**


	47. Chapter 46

**I hate stories where I know exactly what I want to happen...but have no idea how to get it on the paper. This was completed, surprisingly, during my day! Inspiration strikes after an actual good night of rest! I want to thank you all for being so patient...HERE'S THE UPDATE! ...Right after the disclaimer. 8D**

**DISCLAIMER: No ownership of Phantom goes to me. The drama, however, is all mine. Is that a good thing?**

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**Part Forty-six:**

After Richard's confrontation Thomas hung back in the room, pondering hard on what he just heard. He didn't know whether to believe him or not. Richard already lied to him, did he not? The boy turned back to Lark, clasping her hand tightly between his. He could not deny that he wished with all his heart that Richard spoke the truth. If Lark loved no one but him, he would be the happiest person in France. He wondered if, in that horrid barn she really did speak truth about having nothing but a sisterly affection for her oldest friend. Such earnestness in her voice he remembered. He shook his head; he couldn't keep worrying about the past.There could be nothing he could do about it now.

The sun started to set, throwing both of them into a calming orange glow. Thomas paused to lean in and gently kiss Lark's motionless cheek, swallowing back the feeling of guilt that washed over him. Not a moment too soon as his mother bustled in to take care of her patient for the night, shooing him away into the hall. Richard had disappeared off to lurk in his room which the boy could only feel relief. He would rather not have to talk to his rival for the whole night.

In some ways, Thomas wasn't sure how to react to the man anymore. Were they still bitter rivals, fighting for Lark's heart? It seemed, though, that Richard had given up on trying to break them apart to have the girl for his own. But Thomas had been tricked before. His feelings weren't something that could be toyed with and expected to be as humble as it was from before. Still, he would need some rest. Another night to spend wondering if everything would be alright. He sighed, pressing a hand unconsciously to his heart.

O-o-o-o-o

Long since gone was Madame Peter in the now dimmed room of Lark, who lay upon the bed as still as a marble angel statue. The calm look on the girl's face gave the impression she was merely asleep and not in the coma which had struck her. The lump of a bruise impressed on her temple (a token from the horse) had faded from the angry dark colors of black and blue to lighter, sickly tones of yellow green. The same yellowish tinge which matched Erik's corpse flesh.

Almost as if her body had failed her on purpose, nothing could be detected of her awareness of anything around her. What thoughts could echo through her mind in her state? Whether be nightmares or sweet dreams of the past, nothing changed the emotionless expression etched on her face. The window's curtains had been pushed back to allow the dull moonlight from a waning crescent to shine in, illuminating the room in grey hues. Indeed the Madame of the house believed the gentle glow of the moon held healing rays of white and would be beneficial to Lark's delicate health.

The candle left for her on the small oak bed-stand long burnt out still seemed to drip candle wax from the heat of a nonexistent flame. In this scene of morose calm did Richard enter, the well oiled door hinges not giving way of his position. The entire household but him was asleep, no disturbance but that of his tiptoeing shoes as he crept over to Lark's side. His labored but still soft as a whisper breathing seemed the polar opposite of the faint rush of air going in and out of the young girl's lungs, steady as the beating drum of her heart.

Slowly the chair that Thomas usually occupied did Richard sink into, although he did not reach for her little hand as her sweetheart would, nor did he speak of good memories. No, he only sat and stared. Stared at the child he manipulated for his own selfish means, and oh, what false means he found them to be now. Despair and pain over the past days' had wrought his face into a pale, thin mask unable to reconstruct the wide smile that so often broke free upon it. He wished to no longer be the rival, the jealous fool of a man that thrived on the pain inflicted on others' by his very own hands.

That was not the man Lark had grown with to see in childhood, to become the holder of her childish secrets, the pedestal of confidence. Where did the brother figure go, who so made this girl laugh and dance in glee of finding a playmate for the girlish games she made? Richard didn't know. All he knew was that it might be impossible to go back, impossible even to see Lark, his dear little sister wake up. Would now the loss of her sight from so far ago be the sign to the loss of her life now?

Impulse made the desolate man reach out and touch the closed lids of Lark's eyes as if by simply doing so they would open as they did for the blind man covered in mud made from the Son of God to return the desperate man his sight.

"I…forgave him, Lark." He said, swallowing convulsively. "I am not angry at him anymore. I couldn't ask for his forgiveness, though."

Fervently he pressed his hand to his head and removed the other from her eyelids so that both of his own hands could clasp together to keep each from shaking.

"I couldn't ask him to forgive me," he repeated, now shaking his head forlornly. "It wouldn't be of any use to me, his forgiveness. As foolish as I have been, as wretched, foolhardy, and malicious as I have been, I can only beg for yours."

His clasped hands came to a rest against his trembling lips and there in the moonlight he continued to sit, looking as though he were praying and praying hard for a miracle. Time ticked by irreverently and still he held that position. Lark did not stir nor did a flicker of her hand give way to show the proof of the life coursing through her veins.

"Your life is on my hands," he said somewhat in horror, "Your life was mine to protect…and I didn't! Will you die, Lark because of me? Will I have to suffer living, to suffer the unforgiving deed I have done alone?"

Each sentence passing his lips got steadily louder until the last where he clamped a hand to his mouth, checking himself. He paused to listen, ears straining to hear anything. Nothing yet stirred, however and no sound alerted him of another presence his remorseful speech awakened. Slowly his hand fell back to his lap and the unhappy face viewed the girl in a melancholy manner.

"Even if you woke up," he surmised softly to himself, "if I lived to see you as you were, would you forgive me? Forgive your brother, as a loving sister should? Certainly my own would throttle me for my misdeeds but still, she would forgive!"

Richard was not a weak man physically and his intelligence was slightly above the average bear. He knew, as all men certainly do, that tears shed from them were only a sign of weakness both to others' and themselves, and he did not wish to be weak! Even when back in the early ages did this little sister of his urged him to show his sadness, not to keep them from her did he keep his tears to himself. No liquid form of grief fell from him over the years of his life, even at the death of his own parents did he not, even while his older sister wept the very English Channel into being!

But now as he sat at the bedside of the comatose girl, his little sister taken to be under his wing of protection did those sorrow filled drops fall. Silent and free did they fall, even if the numbers of them were few. Only when a single tear fell on the back of his hands did Richard notice them. With an uttered curse, he moved to brusquely brush it away but stopped with a shudder of surprise when a small, cool hand found its way to his and rested there.

Not daring to breathe, least the movement of his breath in the air should blow away that amazing apparition Richard ever so slow lifted his head. Lifted it not only to see Lark awake but to see also the smallest, most gentle of smiles was on her young face. Neither moved an inch and the smile seemed to hold both in a trance, a spell yet to be broken. Then the sweet, innocent mouth opened and barely a whisper of a voice told him:

"I will …always…forgive you, brother."

The spell binding them in that silence suddenly broke as well as Richard's heart as he bowed his head to lay it by her hand. There all his anger, grief, and jealousy released him, leaving him to sob aloud while Lark's hand remained on his. And her small smile never faded.

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**Love it? Hate it? Lemme know! **


	48. Chapter 47

**An update! Whoo! Rock on! Marvy! Far out! ...Start reading before I get pulled off the computer!**

**DISCLAIMER: OMG, I don't own Phantom!? ...That was weird. And no, I don't. And I don't use the txt talk to often, sorry I'm on edge!!**

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**Part Forty-seven:**

As if life was returned, the night which covered the two of them seemed to dim and fade away into nothingness. With affection equal to any brother, Richard lifted his head from her side to cradle Lark's in his hands in order to plant a kiss on her forehead. With admirable composure, she accepted his gift and after he seated himself to stare at her in wonder did her eyes roam about the room. Even in this happy moment, however, her eyes still showed the misty white of the sightless as they wandered about uselessly. By that it came to no surprise when the young woman questioned her whereabouts. Richard then took up her hand and was surprised not when he found it trembling.

"You are in a guest room of the Peters'," he replied steadily, trying to convey a sense of comfort in the pressure of his hold. "You've been…you've been out for quite some time now. A coma, the doctor said."

The trembling worsened and indeed it felt as if she would fall apart right in front of him. Startled by her sudden fear, he rubbed her hand as if to warm them, saying nothing more for caution of making her already fragile state of mind worse. It took her several attempts to speak in her hoarse little voice, to say what gnawed at her mind.

"I...I remember, now!" she said, still trembling like a leaf in a breeze. "There was fire…and flames! And pain…pain in my head."

She then made a movement with her arms, as if she were to raise one to press to the bruised temple but Richard prevented her, reminding her that she was still weak and needed to rest. With more emotion, she turned her head to glare at him in both repugnance and shock, the gaze almost to the point of melting iron.

"Rest!" she said in disgust, the very mentioning of such a word twisting in her stomach uncomfortably. "I have rested far more than necessary. Quite enough, I think, to last me forever!"

Richard half smiled then, the moroseness that had held sway over his face lightening away by the happier expression. Lark's fiery, determined character was shining back through, not being able to lessen even by her current physical weakness. He half expected her to rise out of the bed which she lay by herself with only her willpower, and with this thought he braced himself to be ready to push her back down. But alas, she did not and Richard relaxed once again as her eyes closed, no longer needing them to be uselessly opened.

Also, there would be no movement for that night, Richard explained, not feeling one ounce of embarrassment as the late evening time was revealed. Half guised disappointment marked Lark's face but her extra shifting long stopped, she was calmed into a state of peace. Pressing her lips together thoughtfully, she cautiously opened her mouth, to ask of her sweetheart.

"Thomas," she begun then stopped, hesitant to bring up such a rival in Richard's eyes to the conversation. But her will to know came on stronger and she continued quietly. "How…how is he? Does it bother you that I ask?"

Richard felt a twinge of surprise, but after reconsidering her manner became rather solemn that she still felt that his jealousy (which was now no more, I assure you) would reign again over both her and her heart's mate in the mad frenzy from which it all started, and would harm everyone and him.

At once, however he assured that there would come no harm to him or her sweetheart but sadly related the pitiful state to which Thomas had fallen to. Not a moment after hearing such remorseful news Lark's face crumpled into a look of mental agony, her blank eyes filling with tears. Feeling that he could say nothing, it was all Richard could do to only squeeze her hand lightly for comfort.

"He will be well when he hears of your recovery, though!" he said encouragingly, "Like Me, he will feel the weight lift to see you smile again."

Even after the kind words her face did not change but she turned her head towards him again her lips in a tremble.

"He was so angry with me," she whispered helplessly, her tormented feelings returning with rude force. "He wasn't going to forgive me, Richard! …And now for me to stay in his house! His home..! What pain I must have caused…"

To her friend's enormous distress her tears ran freely down her face in repentance of her assumed selfishness, the grief no longer contained. They seemed to flow so fast that her pillow under her seemed to be threatened with the chance of becoming drowned. Hastily Richard commanded her to stop weeping and while wiping her pearl-like tears from her cheeks he bent forward to give the real truth to ease her ache.

"That is not true!" he exclaimed, scolding so sternly her for her pointless shame that the young woman's sniffling stopped in her alarm. "There is still hope for you, there always was!"

With sudden inspiration Richard jumped to his feet, his chair falling back onto the wooden floor, with not a single care if the loud knock woke anyone with his excited clamor. While Lark flinched back instinctively from the noise he ran to the door and wrenched it open, looking back.

"I will fetch him, bother the time!" he told the bewildered girl with gallantry identical to a brave knight and indeed would have ran any length to grab anyone and anything to please his dear little princess of a sister.

Fear wrought Lark's face, however and her feeble arms twitched as she sensed his departure, a cry springing from her lips.

"Don't leave me!" she cried, looking quite horrified at the thought. "Don't leave me alone!"

The man paused at the door and without another thought, strode back to the bedside. He leaned over her, contemplating quickly.

"Are you well to be moved, then?" he questioned curiously, eager to fulfill his unselfish idea.

Although very much bamboozled at his inquiry Lark barely finished nodding before Richard stooped down to scoop her gently up into her arms, adjusting the sheet that still clung to her comfortably. She let out a startled yelp and could only cling to his neck feebly when he kindly moved her arms around him, moving towards the door determinedly.

"If I cannot bring Thomas to you," he said, "then I shall have to bring you to him."

"Why do you do this for me?" Lark asked, pressing her face into his shoulder to hide her grateful but nervous look. She felt mixed feelings for the ability to allow herself to be seen by Thomas; what would he say to her when he saw her?

Richard walked along the hall, heading for the polished stairs in slow but balanced steps. He smiled slightly before answering her as they ascended the stairway.

"Because you are very, very important to me," he said seriously, keeping his face forward and his pace unsullied by their soft conversation. "Always, I wanted to make sure you were happy…even if I failed to accomplish it before." He added, embarrassed.

It was still dark in the home even though Richard felt it lighter than any sunlit room, even when he had to take cautious steps as to avoid falling. Unaided they made their way to the door which held the room of Thomas. Late as it was, Richard doubted the boy would be asleep; or at least not be asleep peacefully. He could feel Lark tremble in his arms as he stopped before the door, and with a grim grin he kicked at the bottom as his hands were obviously full.

"Oh, oh, what should I say?" Lark whispered worriedly to herself. "He will be so upset, I know it!"

Richard said nothing but kicked the bottom of the door with more determination, his arms now starting to scream out in exhaustion though Lark was not heavy. Indeed she felt lighter than she should, much to light. He would make sure she would be well fed after this and Madame Peter would be more than joyful to make delicious, filling meals fit for a recovered patient.

Not long after they heard a scuffle of footsteps and some darkly spoken and better left unrepeated curses. Slowly the door was opened and the listless eyes of Thomas appeared, flashing in irritancy of a loss of already fitful dreams. Lark heard him and flinched away from his presence, instinctively pressing closer to Richard, as if to ward off an expected blow. But before the young man could even open his mouth to speak Richard gallantly stepped forward, letting Lark be reflected in the suddenly awestruck eyes. He felt the collective gasps from both the young sweethearts and he took an unexpected pleasure as to have helped create such a moment.

Wordlessly he shrugged off Lark's clinging arms and firmly placed her in the other reaching arms of Thomas whose eyes could go no wider in shock. Richard still kept his grip on the girl until he felt that the lad could regain full strength of his limps in order to keep her up. Lark, who had given a slight cry when the switch occurred, guardedly let her weak, thin arms wrap around the new neck, shaking with obvious nerves. The silence was awesome and it held its control over the air for but a mere moment before Thomas, in complete ecstasy, clamped his love tightly to his chest.

Richard smiled gently as Thomas looked at him with a wordless gratefulness that would touch the coldest heart.

"She missed you," he told him simply and then turned back and left to his own room, his personal mission complete. He did not shed a single tear of regret.

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**Love it, hate it? I hope I can update on you guys soon even when I'm sneaking on here for you. Be thankful? Or should I just get better grades in the first place? Hm.**


	49. Chapter 48

**Whew! I thought I'd never get on this computer! Hi all, sorry for the slowness, I've been grounded multiple times it really is a miricle that I could write and update! Well, no matter now....go and read! **

**DISCLAIMER: Ownage of Phantom of the Opera belongs to Leroux. I accept no one else worthy.**

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Part Forty-eight:

"Of course it wasn't very wise of you, if I might say so myself, for you to move her so soon, monsieur," Madame Peter scolded Richard the next morning while pouring tea for her family and him in the small kitchen.

Both she and Monsieur Peter had been informed of last night's occurrences—with slight editing of the full tale—and took delight in finding Lark awake and well. Of course, the Madame showed more enthusiasm than her husband who merely pronounced his satisfaction in knowing Lark could soon be placed back in a more comfortable setting as he left the house.

As promised, Lark took tea from the lady of the house's tea pot, but found herself replaced to her own room due to her still fragile health. Thomas hid a smile in his cup of tea while Richard apologized swiftly for his hasty actions. Richard's sister and new brother-in-law would be arriving the day after the next and it was imperative that the child regained all her strength by that time.

As Madame Peter said with a fond air, "the two doves" didn't need to worry about the past events until after they arrived and got to see Lark in complete recovery. Richard found himself offering to tell them himself; no need for them to get only the sides of the story. He felt, though he did not express aloud, that it was his responsibility to fix what he had shattered. To regain Lark's faith in him would take much work, but he knew if he continued to support her he would soon find himself back in possession of the trust he once held so dear.

Thomas excused himself quickly from the table and hurried off to Lark's room. Since her appearance to him in his room, they became inseparable between times where food and other human needs were in progress. That and he still could not bring himself to trust Richard quite so soon. If he gave the other man no chance to speak to Lark completely alone, there could be little or no mishaps at all. The look of cool aloofness still held sway in the looks the 'older brother' even when they were slightly softened and Thomas wasn't going to go about taking any more chances.

Entering the newly dubbed recovery room he felt the unconscious smile spread across his face when Lark came into view. The reunion last night with her sweetheart had done wonders to her outward appearance, bringing back the rosy color in her cheeks and a certain glow behind the milky eyes. She was propped against her pillows and the window was open to tempt the summer breeze in. Once hearing the heavy tread of Thomas' boots on the wooden floor she turned his direction with a smile, extending her hand out to him shyly.

Quickly he took it in his and kissed it, making her laugh lightly. She still owned a slight hesitation towards him, as if his anger would again resurface and abandon her. Instead of grieving Thomas, it made the young man love her all the more strongly for the added shyness and assuring her of his affections gave him personal joy.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Lark endured the sick bed for only a few hours that day before demanding to walk about, to test her legs again. She would not, she vowed, greet Erik or Rachel as a weakened, lame sparrow. Both Richard and Thomas offered their help but it was the noble mother who would help Lark regain her strength back in her legs. Her son and guest shot looks at each other as they obediently brought the woman all she called for in order for a speedy recovery.

Multiple herbs were all steamed, boiled, chopped, and cleansed by the odd lady and soon with an infusion of her brew and a few hours of working the pale legs Lark could hobble around her room with little or no help. Madame Peter nodded sagely as she watched, readying a cane for her young patient.

"If I wasn't already sure you were blind," she remarked as Lark trailed the distance between the door and the bed, "I would have never been able to tell the difference between you and any other young spunk of a girl!"

"This room was easy for me to memorize," the girl explained with a sunny smile that touched the old woman's heart. "There isn't much to remember where is where."

"Save your strength, dearie," Madame Peter said, helping her back into the bed. "You won't be able to run to your father (she was not aware that Erik was not her biological father) but you can certainly be able to walk strongly as ever."

With Lark tucked up and put away, the woman retreated out of the room, closing the door behind her and turning to face the two men who waited impatiently outside.

"I don't know why you two are here," she remarked with slight amusement, "but Thomas, I know you can work with your father now. Monsieur Richard, she is quite well and needs to sleep no matter what the little dear says. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to clean up the mess you made in my kitchen."

Both of them shuffled uncomfortably and quickly got out of the way of the woman, one more polite than the other due to the fact that he was not needed in his hostess's house nor needed to speed up Lark's recovery.

A glance was passed between them, but not in a comradely fashion though Richard held more tolerance for the young lad. Apparently since he discovered it was absolutely ridiculous and intruding to think he could be Lark's sweetheart, the older man seemed to take on the role of devoted and outrageously over-protective brother. Erik, being the 'father', could do his own roll when he came back.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Thankfully that day came soon and Lark had recovered to the point of taking small stretches about the house with a decent night's rest. In her eagerness, she had Richard carry her outside to the porch straight after her breakfast so she could save her strength to meet Rachel and Erik. Thomas at her shoulder watched over the whole transfer carefully, a little stung by the fact she thought he could not carry her completely to the door by himself.

"They will come early," she told him, her little face flushing in excitement, "and I will be able to hear them before you see them, I bet, my Thomas."

My Thomas. A little on the soft side, the boy just squeezed her arm and smiled at her calling for him in that manner. Although she had come out of a coma just a few days ago, she still was the same Lark. He still couldn't stare at her endlessly without her knowing so and she still could not physically see. If only the sight would return, what a happy occasion! But it was best to not wish for such things, not when he was already so lucky to have her back. Suddenly Lark stood up with another flush coming to her cheeks.

"I hear them!" she said excitedly, moving her arms as she regained her balance. "Is it their carriage…?"

She pointed off towards the distance and Thomas had to squint to make out anything. Then a dark shape rolled over the road and the carriage came into his view.

"It is them!" he said, sounding shocked.

Lark beamed and could only fidget until it drew towards the house. Thomas darted out by the road and waved, to alert them of their presence. A lovely head popped out, Rachel's and a motion to her husband stopped the vehicle right in front of the Bair house.

"Is my Lark here?" Rachel asked, smiling down at the boy.

He nodded and politely opened the door and helped her down. The woman looked even lovelier and her becoming dress looked new—possibly a gift from her new husband. If Thomas was older and wasn't already in love with Lark, he would have felt that Rachel was the most beautiful woman in the world. Instead, he bowed and rushed back to his own sweetheart, to help her to them. To his fright, Lark had already made her way down and was rushing forward rashly, arms out. Before he could open his mouth or get to her, Rachel was already there wrapping her own arms around the young woman with cries of joy.

"Such noisy happiness," a dark, but not unkind voice said from behind the lad.

"Messier!" Thomas said, turning around to face Erik, who stood there in his customary dark garb and mask, a hidden smile on his warped face.

"Good day to you," Erik said politely, "I hope you have been well?"

The boy nodded, thinking about his time of mourning guiltily back in his mind. The married man nodded as well and quickly strolled over to where his foster daughter laughed. Thomas watched as Lark threw herself at Erik and wondered if that was alright for her to do at such a short recovery. Apparently Erik did not notice anything strange besides the fact of her and Richard's being there. Unfortunately, they would be told by Rachel's brother the exact reason of why she was there.

"Come, Thomas!" Lark's happy voice called to him, waking him from his thoughts.

"I'm coming," he promised with a smile and quickly he hurried after them.

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**Diffinately a climax going down...but there will be something cool in the end. Read and see if Erik gets in a hissy fit when they find out..! Hope you all liked it, sorry for the wait!! **


	50. Chapter 49

**Whoo! Updated and...updated! Sorry for the delay, still grounded. Technically I'm supposed to be printing notes (which I will!) but I thought you would all appriciate the update anyways. Enjoy and thanks for all your patience and reviews and threats of continuing or I'm dead! 3**

**DISCLAIMER: No Phantom for Haleybob.... **

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Part Forty-nine:

It had always amazed Richard how his sister took things. She either took them composedly, without comment or she would fly into a rage that would startle everyone and anyone around them at that unfortunate moment, the fits forcing the younger sibling to go to almost the point of holding her down. And what was the worst about these two respondents, he could never, ever tell which one she would present to any situation. It was almost dangerous to tell his sister anything she did not know already and after fond greetings and served tea and coffee Richard sat nervously in the armchair across from his kin and in-law.

Even now with the marriage ceremony and the proper certificate, Erik and Rachel were the strangest couple Richard had ever chanced to meet. They seemed almost composed of the exact opposite material, instead of the common flesh, blood, and bone that made up any human on the earth.

Erik, still lean to the point of being mistaken for a skeleton in a suit, mysteriously dark in both manner and character, and with a slightly menacing aura he fell into the role of the black shadow of his lover-counterpart whose shining beauty despite her age, light and childish gleam in her blue eyes, and the perfect hostess when wanting shown to be the absolute opposite of her husband. The comparison between them could seem almost comical, had they not been real people and just a painting…much like the one finished and hanging up in the gallery of the Bair household.

"What is it that you need to tell us, brother?" Rachel asked innocently while her eyes narrowed with barely concealed suspicion. "What have you been up to, now?"

Her brother could feel the sweat break out on his forehead and chanced a glance at Lark, a safe harbor to view instead of the two adults before him whose viewable and non-viewable eyes bore holes into his skull. Briefly he wondered how he would live through this before studying Lark, seeking some sort of reassurance for comfort. Her young face however was pressed into pre-mature creases of worry and her hand was firmly squeezing Thomas's, who stood beside her stool as she sat, wincing now and then at her tight grip.

She was nervous as well, bless her. She had not wanted to share the story of their conflicts if it caused her reappointed brother trouble. But Richard had put his foot down and insisted on taking on his responsibility. And now he would not show any regret in doing so. With a sigh he turned back to his sister and managed a grimace.

"You act as if I have terrible news and are just waiting to spill so I can be taken to the judge," he grumbled, finding the irony that he did indeed have not entirely wonderful news irritating.

Rachel scowled and her husband lifted his head slightly in amusement. Somehow being married had smoothed down his temper. But not by much.

"If it is not terrible news," Erik said in maddening logic, "would you not have already shared it to counteract her accusation instead of making veiled excuses?"

Richard flushed hotly and Lark's face grew wry.

"Don't nitpick him, Erik," the young woman chided him. "That doesn't get you any nearer to the story."

It was Erik's turn to have his face flush, though luckily he had a mask to hide behind unlike his brother-in-law who was throwing a grateful look towards Lark. Rachel rolled her eyes, but even Thomas could see that she was mollified enough to have good humor about whatever she was about to be told. Silently he prayed for no violence to commemorate their return.

"Fine, fine," Rachel sighed, "let's get this over with. Start off, Richard. What's been happening?"

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A tense silence followed as Richard finally closed his mouth for good, now wishing he had done this with a wall between him and his sister and Erik instead of a wood and glass coffee table. Their outcries and exclamations throughout the whole story had accumulated, getting louder and more violent seeing as Richard had spared them no detail. They both had shown signs of standing but Lark's gentle implorations for peace and patience kept them down for the most part. In all fact, the young girl worried only about the fact if Erik still had that murderous streak in him…and his Punjab lasso.

Right now, Richard was fervently wishing that God would make it quick and take him now, sparing him the wrath of Rachel. Pure blue fire seemed to alight in her eyes and her face was a mask of dangerously sweet composure as she nearly wrung her husband's skeletal hand right off the equally skinny wrist.

"So you thought it best to put it right, hm?" she said evenly, though she spoke through clenched teeth.

Richard nodded meekly, wondering if it would have been safer to just have lied and lived.

"I entirely forgive him," Lark threw out helpfully. "At least he's taken the action and the…the…oh, what was the word, Thomas?"

"Responsibility," her sweetheart supplied, looking nervous to even throw that word in, in case the rage was turned to him. Luckily, the couple seemed to have accepted the definition of Thomas merely being the victim of a cruel game.

"Yes, that," the girl blushed slightly but continued, "Richard could have never said anything about any of it…"

Erik's menacing aura had become even more frightening and his cold gaze froze Richard inside and out. The realization that he sat before the most dangerous married pair in the history of the world it seemed was becoming more and more apparent. Erik didn't have to say anything to let his displeasure in the whole affair show. Subtly, Richard raised himself slightly out of his chair, in case of the need to spring for his life came up.

However Rachel merely turned to Lark with suddenly heart-broken eyes and she rose and hugged the smaller woman while her brother flinched away from her.

"I would have come straight home if I only knew!" she said passionately, clutching Lark to her tightly. "Oh, why didn't you send for us?"

Lark's reply was muffled and Thomas motioned for her release in alarm. There wasn't a great need to have the girl smother in an affectionate hug right after recovering from a coma. Once released, Lark frowned.

"I didn't think of it," she said truthfully, "and even if I did, I didn't you could help."

Erik suddenly pointed an accusing finger at her.

"You didn't think of it?" he asked in a dangerous voice. "Never occurred to you that two adults could help far beyond the capabilities of a mere child?"

Richard began to speak but a dirty look from his sister silenced him and he continued to watch, fidgeting. They weren't supposed to be angry at Lark; it wasn't her fault at all. But he would see that Lark had every plan to take care of herself.

"I resent that, Erik," she snipped back at her foster father, surprising him into silence. "I am perfectly able to take care of myself, sight or no sight! I am not a child anymore, and I knew you would act like this so I didn't _want_ your help! You two wouldn't understand!"

She glared with such fierceness that everyone stared at her with wonder. Erik viewed her long and hard, as if seeing the girl for the first time. Had he not noticed she had grown? Yes, but he did still treat her as the little girl he first found her as, but what father didn't do that for his own daughter. Yet right there before him she was growing, learning all on her own and now trying to stretch her wings against the bondage of parental control. She was nearly an adult herself. And Erik did not wish to cage something that tried so hard to become independent.

Still, his feelings were rather hurt and he spoke now with a more gentle voice for him, though to his brother-in-law and Thomas it was still a low growl.

"That is true enough," he admitted finally, "but you should have not tried to shoulder something so heavy by yourself. You got hurt because Erik wasn't here, and he doesn't like that."

Lark still glared but her face softened. Rachel smoothed her hair, pondering.

"Erik did seem to sense something was amuck," she mused, "some sort of maternal instinct, I guess."

Erik winced at the choice of his wife's words and glared at Lark who smirked. The two other men fought sudden urges to smile. Rachel continued, unaware of the reactions she caused.

"It may be my own fault as well," she said, "I didn't want to come back…for my own selfish reasons."

With a sigh she opened up her hands in a philosophical gesture.

"I guess we cannot really blame anyone, now. What's done is done, no matter the cause."

Her brother sighed with relief and she turned on him with authority.

"You, however," she said severely, "still have to answer to us later."

Richard bent his head humbly.

"I will be happy to comply, sister." He replied gravely.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

After gaining the knowledge of Lark's less than perfect health, her foster father and now foster mother insisted on an early bed. An apology for Madame Peter was given, but the kind old woman shook it away; she enjoyed company in the house and another day would not hurt anyone. Thomas had been sent back to his father's shop to work as the day was not fully gone. Early evening came and Lark's afternoon had been spent listening to the murmur of voices from downstairs with her brows twitched together with worry.

Erik and Rachel did not sound happy with their brother/brother-in-law and often the voices would be raised for a moment, but soon hushed as one would remind the others of her unseen presence. Lark twisted the bed sheets in-between her sweaty palms as she tried in vain to hear what would be happening. She could not even guess what the adults would be discussing; her ears weren't that deft yet.

With this nervous state in mind, Lark sat up quickly as she heard footsteps on the stairs: heavy and a little clumsy. She did not have to ask who entered her room.

"Are you in terrible trouble, Richard?" she asked rather tearfully as the steps made their way into the darkening room.

A small laugh reached her ears and her brother found her hand, patting it as the old visiting chair creaked with the sudden weight.

"Not terribly," Richard replied cheerfully enough. "Just a little…discussion."

"You have to go, don't you."

It wasn't a question and the man knew better than to lie at this point with this certain topic. He sighed and leaned in to hug her gently around her shoulders. She pressed against him, missing him already.

"Yes, I do." He agreed softly, "They both agree I should go back home to…recuperate I suppose. They don't trust me, anymore, Lark and I have to work hard to get that trust back. It was better just to agree with them and go."

Lark hurriedly wiped at her eyes and leaned back on her pillow.

"But I don't want you to," she said with a pathetic look, "it wasn't really your fault, I could tell them…"

Richard smiled slightly but shook his head.

"No, it was. Don't try to guard me, it won't work. This will be good for the two of us," he said firmly. "Besides, I can get back to my violins. And I can come back to visit once Erik and Rachel check up and deem me worthy to be in your presence."

He rolled his eyes while Lark gave a little watery chuckle.

"I'll miss you." Her regret was palpable.

"Me, too." He kissed her forehead in a brotherly gesture. "But I'll work hard and come back to check up on you, no worries!"

They sat for a while more and the room grew darker. More footsteps appeared on the stairs and again the door opened, letting in Erik and Rachel, the latter holding a lantern.

"You're done, brother?" Rachel's voice did not open an invitation for a negative answer.

He brother sighed and nodded, patting Lark's now clinging hand comfortingly.

"Yes," he said and his sister approached the bed, lantern swinging in her hand.

"Good. Out you go," she said, pointing to the door then turned to Lark as he brother rolled his eyes behind her back. "Hello, dear, you feel better?"

Lark raised a hand to her own eyes.

"I would if you'd turn off that light, Rachel. It's really bright."

No one said anything as the realization of what she had just said sunk in.

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**There we go! I feel very successful...and yet kinda sad. It be near the end.... **


	51. Chapter 50

**Hey all! I am back! I first apologize for the lengthy vacation I took. I was stuck with the most wretched writer's block I ever knew, but I refused to let go of the story! It took a few months of staring at a sentence and some skiing off in some mountain to get my brain working and now.... BACK ON TRACK! WHOO YAY! I'm sorry, I know this is a lousy apology, but trust me I felt terrible the whole time! NOW for the newest...and last...chapter of Summer's Nightingale. (sniffs)**

**DISCLAIMER: (bursts into tears) It's not mine!!! WHY?? ...Only original characters and storyline is mine... **

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Part Fifty:

No doubt that in that little room there was the biggest scramble ever to be known to any of them. Shouts and exclamations echoed throughout the house as Rachel, Erik, and Richard scurried about for calling the doctor all at the same time. Upstairs, Lark sat in the bed, amazed at herself and wishing someone had stayed with her for the noise and excitement rather frightened her when she was alone. The lantern still sat on the bed and Lark had gazed at it intently, making sure to herself over and over again that she could see the light. To no one else's surprise, not one person slept that night and in all the hustle and bustle, Richard was forgotten and stayed another evening.

Morning came too slow for everyone and the family of the Peter's got to share in the bubble of hope that had sprung up. Even Monsieur Peter peeked his head in at the 'lil' girl', to see for himself what the cause of the uproar was for. As for the Madame, the excitement thrilled her and she went up and down the steps bringing tea, coffee, and a strong glass of wine for her guests, her face all alight in a charming, hostess way one would want to find in any household.

During the early hours that everyone found each other completely awake, Erik never left Lark's side and Richard fidgeted in a chair beside the bed. His sister and Thomas paced together around the walls as they waited for the old doctor. Called early for quickness didn't seem to have any effect on the elderly doctor, for in his sharp eyes he had already seen the little girl and did not expect any change so soon. Time was leisurely taken to everyone's acute distress.

Lark hadn't even been dressed properly and was still in her nightgown when the man came in, expression showing no surprise in the amount of people in the little room. Families always jumped at the slightest things nowadays. The girl turned towards him in the usual fashion and nothing about her, except the slight squinting of the eyes, told the doctor there was something wrong or new. He held up a withered hand against the sudden burst of hurried conversation, pleads of help, and hopeful discovery.

"I will see what the trouble is," he said in the leathery way of his, "And I'll ask the little girl what is wrong."

Everyone silenced themselves and Richard and Erik moved away from the side of the bed for the worthy doctor. Lark turned her face directly towards the medic, and found that in whatever poor sight she gained, she could find the blob that was the face. To her immediate annoyance, however the man went through the customary checkup instead of going straight to the very reason they asked him for. All the others, annoyed as well and equally impatient, bore the checkup with good taste and waited for him to at least reach her eyes.

The doctor tutted and muttered to himself softly as he examined her, checking her ears, mouth, and temples where the horse hoof bruise had only a few shades of yellow remaining. He complimented the care Madame Peter provided and frowned on Richard as the story of how she was moved came about. Erik, the least patient of all of them, scowled heavily behind his mask and took his wife's hand to keep him at bay.

"Good condition, it seems you will recover nicely, my dear," the doctor said, patting Lark's head, "but I hear it's your eyes that are the trouble…"

It felt as though every single person in that room held their breath as the old man peered into the round eyes expertly. He 'hmm'd' and 'aaah'd' to himself until Lark was at her wits end and Rachel quite wanted to sock him. Suddenly he asked her to look towards the window with sudden interest.

"What do you see, my dear?" he pressed, "tell me exactly."

Thomas watched Lark's eyes squint and stare and he bit his lip worriedly. Madame Peter calmly observed the window as well as if told to look at a beautiful sunrise.

Lark's little voice caught each ear as she quavered, "I see a…a light. But it's all dark around the corners. And, there's a shape by it…oh, that was you Erik? And, that's all, sir."

The good doctor then put her to looking everywhere, to at certain people (to which she stared the hardest at Thomas who blushed) to the palm of the doctor's hand.

"Extraordinary!" the doctor murmured to himself, jotting it down in a little book. "I've heard of this, but now I can see it for myself. How very interesting."

Lark wrung her hands as the doctor cleared his throat and peered at each individual.

"The little girl has taken a strong blow to her temple," he said in an explanatory way, "shown here." Here he pulled back Lark's lock of hair gently to reveal the fading wound. "Now, with blindness in most people, if born with it, it is not likely and sometimes impossible that they will gain any sort of eyesight."

"Lark wasn't born with it," Erik growled, tapping his foot irritably.

The good doctor beamed and nodded.

"Certainly," he allowed, "but it is taught that her own type of blindness, this haze seen here over her eyes, has not been well countered. However!"

He paused as everyone's faces fell with sudden disappointment, then swelled back to the hopeful glances. He bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly.

"However, for this girl, there seemed to be a clog, in a manner of speaking, in her blood vessels here in her head, affecting the eyesight. Generally these clogs go undetected, and the victim goes blind. However!"

He bounced joyfully again and now Richard was rather intent to sock him along with his sister. Lark's gaze darted back and forth from the blob of a doctor, to the smudge of dark that was her foster father's form, her mouth open in amazement.

"However," continued the doctor, "the clog has been known to be able to be knocked free if hit with a strong blow. Obviously, we don't do that for fear of harming the patient. But here, with this girl, the unexpected blow to the temple from the horse knocked her into a coma. But also, knocked out the clogging."

The good doctor took Lark's hand and patted it and turned to the rest of the group.

"I would like to say that, though the chances are still unpredicted I will warn you, the little mademoiselle will regain some, if not all her sight, in time."

The effect was immediate. All at once Richard moved forward and grasped the old man's hand in his, shaking it vigorously and professing true thanks and wonder. Erik also came forward, to question the reality of the doctor's word while Rachel clapped her hands and danced about. Thomas darted to Lark's side and laughed with her as she threw her arms around his neck. Madame Peter looked on, with a happy smile and went to fetch some breakfast tea.

The doctor nodded, smiled, and shook many hands that day, not feeling this well since he saved a boy's legs from becoming lame back in the early days of his career. He refused to stay for there were more patients and only paused at the door of the bedroom to say, "thank you," and to explain that Lark would not see perfectly, and it would take time for the haze to clear if at all. No one cared about that and Lark was then passed around, to ask if she could see them or count their fingers only to be delighted by her modest: "Almost, but not quite. I can almost see you, and your hand is not just a blob that much more." Erik turned away to look out the window to hide the few briny drops that slipped out from underneath his mask and Rachel hugged her husband tight from behind.

In the chaos, Thomas seized Lark's hand and looked into the eyes of the face he held so dear in earnest. Her own amazement had rendered her now speechless and working her hand free, she wordlessly reached out and cupped his face in her hands. They both stayed like that for a while, smiling at each other with the biggest grins on their alighted faces. From a distance away, Richard smiled too.

"I'm so happy I could just burst," Lark finally said, smiling so hard it hurt her cheeks. She tweaked Thomas' nose mischievously, secretly delighted she didn't have to grope his face to find it. "So will you be as handsome as I pictured you?"

He blushed slightly and she clapped her hands joyfully as she watched the shape grow redder. However, neither got to say much more to one another as Rachel's arms wrapped around Lark's shoulders and pulled her into a mighty hug. Her sibling soon followed and the girl was quite out of sight beneath the loving embrace of the Bairs.

"I had hoped for this," Erik said, a hand pressed to his mask as he came to stand by Thomas to watch. "That I could see my daughter with sight again in my lifetime."

"Yes, messier." Was all Thomas could reply with a tentative smile.

Erik gazed almost forlornly at the bundle that was his foster daughter, wife, and brother-in-law. He felt saddened that Lark was growing up so fast. It didn't meet his agenda to have her stretch her wings of independence so soon. He felt and was old. He was a married man, and had the prospect of seeing Lark married even, in just a couple of years. It both filled him with sorrow and elation as he gazed on. So long ago, he would have never been able to predict this. So long ago when he ran into that little girl without a mother, he never would have predicted the adventures he would still live to have.

Erik knew he would forever give credit of his happiness to Lark. That sweet little child who made him grow just as she did. Now she could be happy as well. Erik was determined to let her have her share of happiness.

With this in mind he turned to look down at the boy whom his daughter loved with a stern glare.

"I expect much from you if you so choose to be with Lark," he told the boy, "I will not put up with any shortcomings from you, so do your best to make my child the happiest."

Thomas stared back at the tall, skeleton man and nodded gravely, his eyes wide and heart pounding. He then opened his mouth to say a quick, 'yes, messier, of course, messier' as his physical agreement did not cover what Erik wanted. To Thomas' relief, Erik seemed to smile slightly behind his mask and heaved a small sigh.

"Why she chose you, Heaven only knows," he muttered, whether to himself or at Thomas, the boy would never know.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The joys of Lark's regained sight did not permit Richard's stay. That very afternoon was his quota given by a very stern, but very forgiving older sister. There outside Erik's house they all gathered to watch the man leave. Rachel watched him closely, in case he tried to protest again and her husband stood off to the side of her, a hand on his daughter's shoulder. Rather tearfully, Lark both listened and watched as her friend heaved his bags into the carriage that would take him back to Paris.

"I wish you didn't have to go," she told him, her lower lip atremble. "I'll miss you so much!"

Richard put the last bag in and turned around to give her one of his large smiles.

"That almost makes it worth leaving," he said, "to have such a wonderful girl miss me."

Lark sniffled a tiny laugh as he patted her head fondly, avoiding Erik's and Rachel's protective eye. Though everyone had forgiven him, it was for his best that he leave and return home, to heal and recuperate from his ordeal. This Richard himself agreed to, not wanting to put himself in any temptation for slide backs on his resolve. It was still hard on him, though, to watch Lark's eyes threaten to overspill with held back tears. He kneeled by her and took her hands kindly in his own.

"Now, now," he scolded gently, "there's no point in crying over little old me. Think of it as a holiday for myself! …Oh, wait, that's not a good one. Think of it as…what it is. You and I've got to get better, right?"

Lark snuffled an agreement.

"Good girl." Richard said beaming, "And also, this means I can go back to my 'old strings' as Rachel so kindly puts it. I bet people will be in need of some music with my absence. This will be a good thing for the both of us. I leave you in very good hands."

He nodded at his family and a faint smile crossed his sister's lips. Lark still wiped at her cheeks carefully, her movements very slow when it came to her recovering eyes. It seemed it would be quite the while before she got to rub them or bother them as if they were normal.

"You…you will…take care?" she asked, trying her best not to let her voice quaver.

Richard nodded again, seriously, promising he would take the best of care for himself. He opened his arms and slowly hugged Lark as to not startle her or his watchful guards with quick moment. Unable to keep calm, she burst into unhappy tears and clung around her best friend's neck. He bore it with admirable calm until she kissed his cheek in a familiar, sisterly way. Then he unclasped her arms firmly but as always gently. He grinned and tweaked Lark's nose before standing.

He turned and spread his hands out to his sister.

"Well?" he joked lightly, "May I be permitted with visitation rights or not?"

Rachel pressed her lips together tightly and looked over to her husband, who merely shrugged. She viewed her brother with her icy blue eyes and sighed.

"If you show good behavior," she said solemnly with a wink. "And show improvement."

To Lark's bleary eyes' delight, he smiled his too-wide, jack-o-lantern smile and took a gallant bow before clamoring up into the carriage.

"Much obliged, sister," he called as he snapped up the horses' reigns.

"Truly!" he shouted over his shoulder as the carriage cobbled away with haste.

Against Erik's protests, Lark raced into the empty spot and waved fiercely to Richard's retreating back, smiling through her small tears. He waved back, but she did not see as she looked back at Erik and Rachel with delight, small hands clasped to across her heart. Erik shook his head and let out a heavy sigh.

"This has been one of the most interesting summers in my lifetime," he said, viewing the brown grasses and vaguely changing leaves on the trees.

Rachel laughed and hugged her husband tight.

"This has been one of the best summers in my life," she agreed.

Lark beamed at both of them and turned towards the other side of the road. A lone figure was making its way down, arm waving in an enthusiastic greeting.

"I can't wait for the next summer!" she said happily, waving back.

Erik leaned his head on top of his wife's and brusquely shooed at his foster daughter.

"It's not completely over yet," he said, while Rachel nodded with sudden understanding, "go and enjoy it with him."

The girl didn't need to be told twice. Picking up her skirts, Lark tripped her way out of the yard and ran to meet with Thomas who met her quickly. They could be seen together in the bright sunshine, the boy twirling his sweetheart around once before setting off, hand in hand. There would be not a young and lasting love sweeter than that of Lark and Thomas.

Rachel watched them for a moment before stretching on her tiptoes to kiss Erik's cheek.

"I love you," she told him shyly.

"I know," he replied simply.

With a hidden smile, he took her hand also and they strolled back into the house. It certainly was a summer they would never forget.

**END OF SUMMERS NIGHTINGALE**

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Ah, my readers...where would I be without you all??? Thank you, THANK YOU for reading and finishing with me to the very end of my second completed phan phiction. It's been a pleasure writing and now I shall devote all time to I Want a Refund On My Phantom, Please from now on.

It's so sad ending...but...I did it! (celebrates)


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